Marriage Repair Kit
When we fall in love, we see life in Technicolor. We nibble each other's ears and tell each other everything; our limitations and rigidities melt away. We're sexier, smarter, funnier, more giving. We feel whole; we're connected.
But inevitably, things start to go wrong. The veil
of illusion falls away, and it turns out your
partner has qualities you can't bear. Even traits
you once admired grate on you. Old hurts
resurface as you realize your partner cannot or
will not love and care for you as promised.
Since he no longer willingly gives you what you
Since he no longer willingly gives you what you
need, you try to coerce him into caring
through
through
criticism, intimidation, shame, withdrawal,
crying, anger—whatever works. The power
struggle has begun and may continue for many
years, until you split, settle into an uneasy
truce, or look for help, desperate to have your dream back.
What's going on here? After reflecting deeply on
this question, we've come to this conclusion:
You've found what we call an Imago partner,
someone who, we regret to say, is uniquely
unqualified (at the moment) to give you the
love you want. And this is what's supposed to
happen.
The thesis is relatively simple: Although we
happen.
The thesis is relatively simple: Although we
think we have free choice in selecting our
partners, our primitive brain has a
nonnegotiable agenda to find someone who
resembles one of our childhood caretakers in
order to complete unfinished business. No
matter what our parents were like or how hard
they tried, they weren't perfect. Invariably,
they failed to meet some of our essential
needs,
needs,
which left us with an emotional wound.
Growing up, we instinctively developed a
Growing up, we instinctively developed a
pattern of behavior to protect us from being
wounded again. But at the same time, we
continue to carry around an internal image, a
sort of imprint of our caretakers' traits. As
babies this imprint helped us distinguish our
parents from other adults, much like a young
zebra—whose mother circled it repeatedly right
after birth—recognizes its mother's
distinctive
distinctive
pattern of stripes. When, as adults, we meet
someone who fits our emotional imprint, we
fall
fall
in love. Our imperfect caretakers, freeze-
dried
dried
in the memories of childhood, are
reconstituted in our partner.
The romantic yearning we feel is the
anticipation that our new love interest will
meet the needs our caretakers failed to
satisfy.
satisfy.
But a problem arises immediately, because our
partner, who also bears childhood hurts,
enters
enters
the relationship with similar expectations and
opposite patterns of self-protection. In the
attraction stage, we're drawn to someone
whose defense mechanism seems
complementary to ours because it's so
different. But before long, our differences
create a core conflict. To complicate matters,
though you'd think we'd choose a partner with
only our caretakers' positive traits, the
negative traits are more indelibly imprinted on
us. Unconsciously, we need to be healed by
someone with the very deficits that hurt us in
the first place. Since we don't understand
what's going on, we're shocked when the awful
truth about our beloved surfaces.
"You are already with your dream partner, but
at the moment, he or she may be In disguise."
Our Imago is also likely to have the qualities—
both good and bad—that we lost in the shuffle
of socialization. For instance, the anger you
repressed because it was punished in your
home, and which you unconsciously hate
yourself for feeling, you "annex" in your
partner. But eventually, seeing your own
forbidden emotions in him makes you so
uncomfortable that you criticize his quick
temper.
All of this seems to be a recipe for disaster,
and for a long time it was a depressing state
of affairs that puzzled us. How can we resolve
childhood issues if our partners wound us in
the same ways our caretakers did and we
ourselves are stuck in patterns that wound our
partners?
When you're unaware of the hidden agenda of
romantic love, it is a disaster. You
inevitably repeat your childhood scenarios
with the same devastating consequences. But
when you understand that you've chosen your
partner to heal certain wounds, and that this
healing is the key to the end of longing,
you've taken the first step on the journey to
real love.
It's crucial to accept the hard truth that
incompatibility is the norm for relationships.
Conflict is a sign that the psyche is trying
defenses. It's only when you don't have this
knowledge that conflict is destructive. (We
believe that couples who claim never to argue
are often shying away from intimacy; instead
of sharing all of themselves, they may develop
parallel lives.)
Romantic love is supposed to end. It's the glue
that initially bonds two incompatible people
so they can begin to do what needs to be done
to heal each other. The good news is that the
power struggle is also supposed to end. The
emotional bond created by romantic love
evolves into a powerful organic bond through
the process of resolving conflict.
With self-awareness we can correct what has
gone wrong. But a conscious relationship isn't
for the fainthearted. It requires reclaiming
the lost, repressed parts of ourselves that we
were told were dangerous. And it means
learning coping mechanisms that are more
effective than the crying or anger or
withdrawal that has become habitual. It means
reconnecting through honest conversation and
extending ourselves to give our partners what
they need to heal. This is not easy, but it works.
Relationships aren't born of love, but of need;
real love is born in relationships. You are
already with your dream partner, but at the
moment, he or she may be in disguise—and, like
you, in pain. (If your partner is abusive, you
need to recognize your part in the attraction
and learn how to keep yourself emotionally and
physically safe. Unless you're conscious of
the dynamic, you might think divorce will
solve your problems—only to select another
partner with similar characteristics.) A
conscious, honest relationship can restore
your sense of aliveness and wholeness, and set
you on the path of real love.
both good and bad—that we lost in the shuffle
of socialization. For instance, the anger you
repressed because it was punished in your
home, and which you unconsciously hate
yourself for feeling, you "annex" in your
partner. But eventually, seeing your own
forbidden emotions in him makes you so
uncomfortable that you criticize his quick
temper.
All of this seems to be a recipe for disaster,
and for a long time it was a depressing state
of affairs that puzzled us. How can we resolve
childhood issues if our partners wound us in
the same ways our caretakers did and we
ourselves are stuck in patterns that wound our
partners?
When you're unaware of the hidden agenda of
romantic love, it is a disaster. You
inevitably repeat your childhood scenarios
with the same devastating consequences. But
when you understand that you've chosen your
partner to heal certain wounds, and that this
healing is the key to the end of longing,
you've taken the first step on the journey to
real love.
It's crucial to accept the hard truth that
incompatibility is the norm for relationships.
Conflict is a sign that the psyche is trying
defenses. It's only when you don't have this
knowledge that conflict is destructive. (We
believe that couples who claim never to argue
are often shying away from intimacy; instead
of sharing all of themselves, they may develop
parallel lives.)
Romantic love is supposed to end. It's the glue
that initially bonds two incompatible people
so they can begin to do what needs to be done
to heal each other. The good news is that the
power struggle is also supposed to end. The
emotional bond created by romantic love
evolves into a powerful organic bond through
the process of resolving conflict.
With self-awareness we can correct what has
gone wrong. But a conscious relationship isn't
for the fainthearted. It requires reclaiming
the lost, repressed parts of ourselves that we
were told were dangerous. And it means
learning coping mechanisms that are more
effective than the crying or anger or
withdrawal that has become habitual. It means
reconnecting through honest conversation and
extending ourselves to give our partners what
they need to heal. This is not easy, but it works.
Relationships aren't born of love, but of need;
real love is born in relationships. You are
already with your dream partner, but at the
moment, he or she may be in disguise—and, like
you, in pain. (If your partner is abusive, you
need to recognize your part in the attraction
and learn how to keep yourself emotionally and
physically safe. Unless you're conscious of
the dynamic, you might think divorce will
solve your problems—only to select another
partner with similar characteristics.) A
conscious, honest relationship can restore
your sense of aliveness and wholeness, and set
you on the path of real love.
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