In my Social Foundations of Communications class, we typically discuss things related to methods of communication in relationships. My friends and I always joke about how we feel like we are on Dr. Phil because every class ends up turning into some sort of romance therapy.
Today, we talked about the relationship maintenance theory, which is based on steps that people will take in order to deepen their relationships: sharing tasks, providing positivity, spending time with mutual friends, self-disclosure, & assurance. In my experience, assurance has been the most difficult step to take because it leads to expectations and becoming too involved, which most often results in heartache. Assurance means talking about the future and affirming that there will be one. The problem with this idea is that we really are not promised a future, or anything for that matter. There is no way to tell if we will even wake up tomorrow, so how can we look ahead ten years and talk about marriage and children? Why do we do it?
And why are we scared of being vulnerable in front of someone? Maybe it is because people’s intentions are never clear in the beginning, and I think that is why beginnings are our favorite part. They are so simple; no strings attached. It is when you start having deep conversations about life and develop a closeness with another being that causes all the complications. It’s like being provided a sort of warmth and clinging to it because you don’t know how long it will be before it burns out. That’s why people who just want intimacy refuse anything that will make them look beyond the surface level.
There could be someone you are romantically interested in, but every time you try and get close to them, they turn the other way. The openness vs. closedness affect in a relationship will be prevalent if your significant other has internal or external dialectical tensions. But, the moment they do open up to you and you hear the magic “I’ve never told anyone that before” phrase, a whole new world of expectations are revealed. How much closer can I get to this person? Why are they sharing this with me? If we lose what we have, what will become of the private information that I disclosed to them?
What we want is to be certain in our relationships, but at the same time, there is no such thing as certainty. It is impossible to avoid feeling uncertain and contradicted when we involve the feelings of ourselves and of others. We cannot expect our relationships to forever remain in the “honeymoon stage” because we live in a world that is constantly changing. To have a relational life that isn’t characterized by change would be completely unrealistic.
Something that I know to be true is that I don’t know anything about love, other than the fact that it is associated with forever. We picture perfect relationships as being the ones that last the longest because we think long-term means commitment and commitment means marriage and marriage means someone to love you for all eternity. Right? Ha. We all know that isn’t true. But just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. I think our society has us confused with the idea that it is only acceptable to say you were in love if it lasted for at least a year. Which is quite a dense concept. Since we can’t truly look someone in the eye and cross our hearts and swear that we will see them and still feel the same way about them tomorrow, I think promising them now could be enough. Having expectations is not a bad thing; in fact, I don’t think we can ever not have them because what we look for in relationships is an assurance (there’s that word again) that the future with them will be brighter. It gives us something to fantasize about for hours on end and something to build toward.
The one thing we all strive for is certitude. For some couples, that may mean saying. ‘I love you,' or making time to have dinner together, or even just seeing their car pull into the driveway every day. Showing it is different for each individual, but at the end of the day, you just want to be sure that the person you love will be there. It really is as simple as that; separation and nonexpression and walls are results of not wanting to lose that security, that routine of being comfortable in knowing. Until, that is, something happens and you’re back at square one all over again. Has anyone ever said that it’s okay to not know, and that it’s okay to feel pain? As dramatic as we all are about heartbreak, we continue putting ourselves in the line of fire over and over again for the same reason: Because when we love we see the world through a kaleidoscope of pink and paper mâché heart eyes and for that time, everything just seems to be in place and at peace.
In a conversation I had over the phone with my great-grandmother last week, I asked her how she kept her marriage alive and well for 54 years (up until my great-grandfather passed away in 2007). She told me that it was simple: they went to bed together every night and woke up next to one another every morning. I didn’t understand how that made sense in response to my question at first, but after today, I realized what she meant. Things don’t have to be complicated because love is felt in its simplest forms. They didn’t need to think far ahead because they were happy in the now. Assurance doesn’t have to be long term. Being with someone and loving them in the moment is assurance within itself that the moment was enough.
