Sue Johnson would call it a dance. My circumstances are likely so similar to all of yours. One pursues, the other runs. In my case he lashes out with blame and vitriolic rage. Why do I stay? I think it is because I need him to value me so I can feel whole. I yearn for what he withholds. And when he feeds my need, in tiny inconsistent bursts of true affection and love, it leaves me still hungry and craving more.
Some psychologists talk about the original wound, somewhere in our childhood. They talk about attachment bonds, and how we all need a stable loving environment, that we all crave it. That we need it to heal, to fulfill our evolutionary yearning, to give us a sense of comfort, understanding, wholeness. It is not hard to feel the truth in that theory. If it wasn’t true none of us would be hurting right now.
It is hard, however, to fulfill that destiny, to satiate the yearning when our original wounds make us unloveable. The more we try, the more we fail. The thought of giving up fills us with fear. Life without love or connection fills us with yearning. It is futile. We try to change but evolution has a lot of momentum and overcoming it with the sheer force of will is exhausting.
So, give up? Is that what we do? Become as disciplined as a ninja? Doesn’t seem like the right answer. Forcing yourself to rail against something that should be joyful and fulfilling.
I am sure that my partner would have a similar story about how I smother him and how he wants to be in a relationship, but only if it is entirely under his control, so he can leave at any time without consequence. He wants connection without vulnerability or risk. He wants loyalty and love, but contact only when it suits him. To justify this he blames. I am too everything. Too needy, too emotional, too logical, to rational, too whatever I am being. His list of my excesses contradict themselves and I am dancing to try to keep it all straight. Do this, not that. Then do that not this. My head spins.
Then he is happy for a little while and I let my guard down, ask for things he is not ready to give me. And the rage surfaces, he lashes out and months of quietly building trust goes out the window. I am so drained that I cannot imagine myself being worthy of any kind of love from anyone so I reengage. Convince him to stay and so on we go, dancing in the darkness. Aware, but unable to stop, each wanting the other to change.
