The best relationship advice a therapist ever gave me

Frustratingly wise words about friendships and romance.

An audio version of this article is available here:

It’s 2017 and I’m sitting in the basement office of a therapist named Ian. Ian is about to deliver an analogy about friendships and romances so apt that, five years later, I still think about it all the time. Here’s what he said (I’m paraphrasing, of course. It was five years ago and I was hungover).

Puzzlement

“Imagine you and X are puzzle pieces,” therapist Ian starts. “And your pieces don’t fit together. In order to try to get them to fit together, you start shaving bits off your own piece.”

Strong start, Ian, I think.  

“Every time something happens that reminds you that you don’t fit together – all the little snubs or behaviours that make you feel unworthy, unloveable, too much or not enough – you shave another bit from your own puzzle piece. You tell yourself, ‘I don’t need X to respond to my messages, prioritise the same things, respect my time, check in, support my work, show affection, or laugh at my jokes’ – whatever it happens to be. 

“You deny your own needs, wants, and desires to better fit with theirs. You shave corners off your own piece until it fits. And you tell yourself that you’re OK with that.” 

Well, this is getting a little uncomfortable, I think.  

“You deny parts of yourself that make you you. But you tell yourself that that is fine and dandy because now you and X fit perfectly together! Hurray!” Ian punches the air in fake celebration and I scowl.

Clear and present resentment  

“This doesn’t work for several reasons,” Ian continues. “Firstly, you’re never going to be happy in this new shape because it’s a lie. The parts of yourself that you’re denying are valid. And, you actually like those parts. You realise that it’s not a flaw to want or need the things that you want and need – that they’re not flaws, they’re just facts.” 

Alright, Ian, I think. Chill out.   

“So then,” he says, “the resentment starts. You resent what you’ve had to do to make yourselves fit together. The sacrifices it’s taken to make this relationship work. The resentment builds and builds, bubbles and bubbles. Until, one day…

You. Are. Livid. 

“One day, after they’ve done something that upsets you (but that you’ve previously pretended doesn’t), you’re suddenly LIVID. And you turn that frustration – much of which is actually about yourself – onto them,” Ian says.  

“You tell X off for not acknowledging what you’ve done. For not valuing the things you value. For not knowing what you’ve given up and denied. For not appreciating how much work it’s taken and self-esteem it’s destroyed to continue trying to make this puzzle work.” 

Has he been listening to my voice notes? I wonder. 

“And, on that day, X is blown away by surprise,” Ian says. “They’re totally shocked. Because, as far as they’re concerned, things were going swimmingly. This explosion is coming out of nowhere. You’re being unreasonable! Ridiculous!

“Which makes you question yourself again. Maybe you are too much? Maybe you are unworthy? Maybe you are being unreasonable/needy/selfish? 

“X may even start listing all of the pieces of their puzzle that they’ve also shaved off. All of the ways in which they’ve tried to fit their piece with yours. How dare you be angry when you haven’t even noticed how much they’ve filed away from their own piece?”

Fuck off, Ian, I think. 

“Or perhaps you don’t explode at all, but ghost them. Distance yourself. Having decided that they’re obviously doing this deliberately – because surely they must know what you need (even though you haven’t told them) – you back off without offering an explanation. Why should you address it when they clearly don’t care? Or, you remind yourself how you don’t like confrontation and that escalating this isn’t worth it.

“This behaviour confuses them and makes you feel worse. 

“Bottom line? Some puzzle pieces just don’t fit together – and that is no one’s fault. You cannot expect someone to shave bits off their own piece for you, just as you cannot be expected to shave bits off your piece for them.

“Your needs, values, and priorities are real. Just as theirs are. It is not a personal failing on either side. It does not mean that they are being deliberately difficult – they just have their puzzle piece and you have yours.” 

Sometimes your puzzle pieces just don’t fit 

“Successful friendships and romances are built upon puzzle pieces fitting together. This doesn’t mean that you have to agree on every single thing, or that you don’t compromise. It means that those compromises and disagreements don’t conflict with your core values or needs. That they don’t chip away at your sense of self. That you don’t have to fundamentally change what you want and need in order to make the relationship work.

“If someone’s needs do not fit with yours, neither of you are ‘wrong’. You just can’t give each other what you both need. 

“Put simply: your puzzle pieces just don’t fit.” 

Oh. 

Just One More Thing… 

“If you’re constantly feeling let down by someone, hurt, misunderstood, or unappreciated, and the relationship matters enough to you – tell them. Explain how you feel. Work out if there’s a mutual way of making things fit. But, if things don’t change, then accept that your puzzle pieces don’t fit… and either accept the relationship on that basis and change your expectations (but not yourself), or let the relationship go.”

“FFS, Ian,” I sigh. “That was pretty good.” 

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