Honoring Our Need for Others (Lesson 3)

You’re about to read Chapter 3. Want to start this story from the beginning? Go here.

Lesson 3 stung.

I suppose I had a tough time with it because, although Lesson 3 was not new, it did not feel like review.

It felt like reproach.

Yes, I am needy. Yes, that is okay.

Of course it was not the book that was reproachful; it was how I read it.

Because I already know that needs are normal. Having needs does not make me needy.

Or maybe it does—as it should!

“It’s appropriate for us to go into a relationship with the intention of caring for the needs of another, with the anticipation that our needs for love, connection, and belonging will be cared for in return.” —CITO, p. 27

I learned this lesson hard core the hard way in my relationship with Jim.

Most of our time together was him progressively withdrawing while I tried to need less and less.

But guess what? My needs were completely reasonable, and repressing them did not work. That’s probably why, the last time I started Calling In “The One”, I underlined this sentence:

“When we try to pretend that our needs don’t exist, or treat them as though they were pathological, we only feed the hunger in our hearts that much more intensely.”

My desire for appropriate support from Jim was not the problem. His inability to consider anyone outside himself was the problem.

Well, and it was also a problem that I chose him anyway.

“Begin cultivating relationships with people who are able and willing to respond lovingly toward you when you ask for what you need, instead of staying with people who don’t and hoping they will change.”

Can you see how I might have felt some reproach while I was reading?

Especially since I made the same mistake with Paul.

Granted, the mistake was much, MUCH more minimal.

I am so grateful to say that for the bulk of our time together, I clearly expressed my needs, and my partner was eager and able to lovingly honor them.

However, somewhere along the way the dynamic shifted.

Maybe it was when Paul’s parents came to visit right after I accidentally said “pick me” during sex. I can see how that combo could have created pressure.

Or maybe it was after he told me he didn’t want to travel to North Carolina for my grandpa’s 90th birthday.

The truth is, I don’t know exactly when he started to pull away and it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is that he noticed and I didn’t. Or rather, I did and I wanted to deny it.

95% is not enough

Paul knew I was disappointed about North Carolina, and he felt bad.

He communicated to me so clearly that he was not ready to be more serious, and I so seriously wanted to be all right with that.

We loved each other so much, and I was in no rush—really, I wasn’t.

Yes, I pegged him for his potential immediately after our first kiss, but I had plenty of other priorities on my plate.

Honestly, truly, I felt marriage could wait.

So when he told me that he felt he was giving me 95%, and that he could get to 100%—the realm of merging family, of joint decisions, of marriage—but that he needed time, I really didn’t mind.

Or did I?

Honestly, I am still sorting through how much I really needed and how much I was simply scared and grasping for security.

But the point is that I was completely willing to accept less than 100%.

And while I was okay with that, he wasn’t.

In other words, he walked away because I wasn’t going to ask him to. I was going to try and need less, and he didn’t want that.

Paul loved me, and he respected my needs. He just couldn’t meet them, for whatever reason.

And so he asked for time apart.

And now, like it or not, I am holding out for 100%.

Lesson 3 in Practice

What also made Lesson 3 tricky for me is that the exercise requires more than meditation.

You’re supposed to consider what you need from a relationship, then write down five or more sentences detailing your desires.

Then you’re supposed to rewrite the sentences to make your own needs met.

So, “I need to be encouraged” becomes “I encourage myself.”

Nifty trick, huh?

Then you’re supposed to write down each revision 10x while “feel[ing] it to be so in your heart.”

And this part pissed me off.

Because I already feel in my heart that I can meet my own needs. Granted, the first and second times I did Lesson 3, I found the exercise empowering and helpful:

Oh, right, I don’t need to wait for a partner in order to receive what I need.

But this time felt frustrating. Isn’t the whole point of this lesson that it’s appropriate for a partner to help out with this stuff? Aren’t I supposed to allow someone else to offer me what I need?

I mean, let’s be real. Sure, I can hold and lovingly touch myself, but, also…no. Not the same.

What I (eventually) learned from Lesson 3

Fortunately, I pushed through my frustration and did the work anyway.

And, overachiever that I am, I wrote down way more than five sentences of my needs. The first handful were predictable—to be appreciated, to have spiritual connection, to laugh, etc. They were easy to translate.

But at the end I uncovered something interesting: “I need for my partner to be part of my family.”

This is an obvious takeaway from my time with Paul, and certainly an important acknowledgment.

But what really humbled me was the translation I came up with.

Because how can I meet this need without a partner? By not waiting for him to appreciate my family.

“I am fully part of my family,” I wrote. Again and again, pen to paper, truth to page.

My family is far from perfect, and I have always envisioned partnership as a safe haven from the dysfunction I perceive.

But if I really want someone to be in my family with me, I have to really be in my family.

And as it happens, in the time surrounding my separation from Paul, I have spent quite a bit of time traveling for family occasions.

I’d told Paul so much about these important people in my life, yet most of them he never met.

With him in mind while I was away, I found myself seeing my loved ones with fresh eyes, giving them a blank slate. Staying present and accepting them without reservation, the way I knew Paul would without question.

And so even without a partner, the concept of partnership was helpful.

Just like meeting my own needs prepares me to be a better partner.

Because yes, partners can help make us better, and it is all right to need someone. But true transformation will always be an inside job.

Love > fear,

Christina

Want to know what happens next? Proceed to Chapter 4.

Missed what happened before? Go back to Chapter 2, or start from the beginning.