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Making a relationship commitment is one of the most important
promises we ever make because of the depth and breadth of
the potential ramifications. Relationship commitment is
about retaining dedication to each other despite differences,
personal limitations, crises, other options, etc. Can we
legitimately pledge to love, honour and cherish another
person - until death us do part - when we’ve barely tasted
adulthood? Whereas our involvement may be very intense at
that time and our intentions sincere, do we know enough
about ourselves and our partner to make an informed decision?
Many of us make such a commitment at a time in our development
when we know little about ourselves and haven’t had time
to do the sort of experiential learning that’s required
for us to develop emotional stamina. It takes a certain
level of emotional maturity and self-awareness to understand
our feelings and realise why we act and react as we do.
Whether we’re older or younger, generally we make a relationship
commitment when we’re over the moon about each other. Instead
of seeing new partners for the complex human beings they
are, in this starry-eyed state we superimpose onto them
a fantasy construct of our ideal partner. We venerate potential
partners by ignoring their shortcomings and exaggerating
their strengths. In the formation stage of a relationship,
we also tend to airbrush ourselves such that we present
to our partner a positive, albeit fictitious, self-image.
When we’re knowledgeable and realistic about our partner
and ourself we’re in better shape to make a valid commitment.
It’s unrealistic to expect a strong union to evolve between
two people whose perception of themselves and each other
is largely the product of illusion. It’s abundantly preferable
that we wait until this temporary insanity has passed. It
also behoves us to delay any pre-emptive decisions until
we’ve evaluated our mutual compatibility. If we aren’t compatible
our premature promises can lead to broken dreams and broken
hearts.
In my early 20s, my criteria for a marriage partner were
that he was handsome, ambitious, a good dancer and not too
fond of alcohol. Not knowing enough about my childhood hurts
to realise how my tender spots led to my unique needs, I
oscillated between disowning my specific needs, and silently
criticising myself for having them. To give our relationship
the best chance to endure affirmatively, we need to know
enough about ourselves to be able to evaluate our compatibility
with another person. It takes more than good looks, ambition,
fancy footwork and sobriety for love to flourish.
Moreover, the veracity of the commitments we make at any
age may be more wholesome if they were made progressively
rather than in a single moment of romantic surrender before
we’re well informed about each other. The first of such
incremental commitments is usually to sexual and emotional
fidelity. At the next level, we’re likely to agree to work
toward developing a healthy relationship. When a firm base
has been established and compatibility seems high (the elements
and importance of compatibility will be discussed in a subsequent
article), then it might be appropriate to consider a commitment
to being together indefinitely.
Before making successive commitments, it’s advisable that
couples assess what they expect from, and can contribute
to, a relationship. It might be unfitting for some people
to promise sexual exclusivity or to remain with one person
thereafter. We might want to include an exit caveat should
one partner find the relationship is limiting her/his personal
or spiritual growth. When we realise we’ve made either an
untimely or an uninformed commitment, we may find ourselves
beholden to values we’ve outgrown, or committed to a person
with whom we have little compatibility. Of course, it’s
never too late to communicate such concerns to our partner.
Whether or not we’ve made life-binding undertakings early
in our romantic association, we might want to renegotiate
and/or reaffirm our commitments a few times along the way.
Notwithstanding the limitations of commitment and those
who make it, most of us need it to feel motivated to invest
wholeheartedly in a relationship. At first, it’s desirable
that the relationship’s progress be experienced in parallel
by the two potential partners, rather than one becoming
heavily invested in the union before the other. According
to Caryl Rusbult, an American relationship theorist, three
factors determine whether or not we’ll remain committed
to a relationship - (a) How satisfied we are with the relationship;
(b) whether we believe there are viable alternatives to
the relationship; and (c) the potential loss of investments
(material and otherwise) we’d experience if the relationship
were terminated. Thus, we’re likely to default on our commitment/s
if we’re unhappy in the relationship, we believe we’d be
happier elsewhere, and/or the anticipated emotional and
material losses involved in separating seem worthwhile.
In this society of in-built obsolescence and if-it-breaks-fling-it,
we’ve embraced sequential monogamy, the antithesis of commitment,
as a way of life. Many counsellors, including myself, advocate
that significant relationship dissolutions present an opportunity
for people to develop emotional health and expand their
self-knowledge. However, if we really face up to ourselves
when a committed alliance is troubled we have a grand opening
to growth. In attachment relationships all the remnants
of our childhood hurts and unmet needs come into focus.
Lovingly confronting these issues without self-deception,
defence, justification, rationalisation or self-condemnation
could mean we avert considerable heartache.
When our committed relationship is a greater source of pain
than fulfilment, rather than deal with our own emotional
challenges that impact on the relationship, most of us blame
our partner, kiss her/him goodbye and start afresh, hoping
to fall in love again. We’re unlikely to be happy in our
next relationship, though, if we haven’t come to understand
our unique hurts and the unconscious material that moved
us to rescind our commitments. When we truly believe we
co create our relationships we’ll be more likely to take
self-responsibility and question the part we played in the
dynamics that could, or did, result in the downfall of the
relationship. It’s great to hold hope that our next relationship
will be more successful than the past one/s, but sadly second
marriages are generally no happier than first marriages.
We can trade partners but we need to question whether in
doing so we’re avoiding facing the truth of our own limitations.
Copyright – Elizabeth Ryan – All Rights Reserved
More articles by Elizabeth Ryan
Establish Sold Foundations
An Act
of Love
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