me & we: differentiation

What is differentiation, and why is it important to my relationship?Here’s what it is.

This is you.

This is me.

This is WE.

Looks so good, doesn’t it?  I like soup, you like soup! We can talk … or not talk… for hours! We do everything together! Your mom is like my mom! We understand each other perfectly! I don’t see any of my crappy purpleness, you don’t have to confront your gross greenness.

Or … is it?

Take a look at the WE circle. Is it me green, or you purple? Gurple, or preen? Where do I end, and you begin? This is a fused couple. I no longer see me and you. I can see, let’s say, only you.

YOUR lapses in judgment.  YOUR shoes in the hallway.  YOUR wrong behaviors, beliefs, responses. How YOU are messing up this whole relationship thing.

OR, I no longer see you … only me. What I would do, and you did not. My pain, my confusion, my compromises.

What we end up getting is resentment … that you are not like me after all! Traitor. Also, sexlessness.

I and you no longer see...you and me.

And you and me — differentiation — is pretty powerful stuff.  Me, my separate, private self.  My freedom, my autonomy.  I could go over there, with them, but I’m here, with you. Not because I have to, but because I want to. And you could also go elsewhere, too, but you are choosing me. Hot stuff!

We come by the false idea about the unified, conjoined, fused WE honestly.  There is such a strong belief in our culture that when I find the RIGHT ONE, that person will anticipate all my needs.  They will care for my every broken part.  They will nurture me and make me complete.  In other words, I will be like an infant floating in a bath of parental nurturing love and sustaining, nutritional goo.

This is not sexy.

Sex relies on mystery, on unknowingness.  That cannot happen with the fused WE. I need to know that you are choosing me. You can only have a choice if you have options. In healthy relationships, couples are aware that they could each go elsewhere, and choose every day not to. Do you remember that feeling, of being chosen? Eyes meeting and lingering across the room, a private message. Thrilling.

This, by the way, is a separated couple — only you, only me, no you-and-me. You could definitely sneak a distracting little orange circle in that gap. Like a lonely co-worker. A Facebook flirtation. In a very different but still damaging way, one of (or all of) your kids.

So how do we balance our YOU-AND-ME-ness, our connection amidst autonomy, our freedom, our mystery?

One, ask yourself these questions: Do I feel like I can do things alone?  What kind of things?  Can I go off on a weekend with my friends?  Can I have relationships with others, with other men if I’m a hetero woman, with other women if I’m a straight guy? (Sorry, but this seems to be a problem predominantly in hetero couples).  Do I believe it’s OK to find others sexually attractive?  Is it OK if my partner does? What does it mean if we don’t do everything as a couple/family?  Examine the other relationships in your life, build them if you need to, identify what needs others can meet in your life, so you are not bringing it all to your partner.

Two, know how to take care of yourself, emotionally, mentally, sexually. This will require practice, privacy, the belief that you are worth knowing, that you do not exist sexually emotionally or physically just for your partner’s pleasure and benefit.

Three, try to step back from your automatic responses by practicing mindfulness.  Learn to observe your reactions to your partner.  Know when you are being triggered, and take the time to soothe yourself.  Do not look to your partner for all your emotional comfort.  Be the parent for yourself and let your partner do the same.