When I first met Tom, I didn’t like him. We met hiking. I was sitting under a tree with my shoes off at the end of the trail, making small talk with another hiker. We were discussing where we were from when Tom strolled up. We welcomed him into the conversation and after telling us that he’s from Albany he cynically added, “New York is a shit hole.” He then disregarded the “Do Not Hike Beyond This Point” sign and wondered off.
I immediately thought to myself, “Forget that guy.” Shortly after, the first hiker began his trek out of the canyon and I rested in the shade a while longer.
Eventually Tom made his way back to the trail’s end where I was sitting and despite my initial distaste towards him, we sparked up a conversation. I can’t recall what started our exchange, but pretty quickly I remember feeling thoroughly puzzled and thinking that there was a lot more to this guy than his first impression suggested.
As we stood there in the canyon, there was a depth I sensed in Tom. An inquisitive curiosity and sensitivity that I would have never seen if I had clung too tightly to my now clearly premature evaluation. We talked about birds, mythology, and even had an impromptu ceremony where we offered our gratitudes back to the land.
To make a long story short (which includes a pretty wild synchronicity that I will have to share in another newsletter sometime), Tom and I hiked out of the canyon together that day. He then followed me on his motorcycle to the freshwater spring I had planned to go to after the hike, and a few days later we met up for a beer. This was four years ago now and I guess as the saying goes, the rest is history.
This story came to mind as I began brainstorming the topic for this next newsletter. As most of you know, my last one was a big one for me. It was the first time I shared about my experience with Relationship Anxiety (RA) and Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (ROCD). If you haven’t read that one yet, you might start there for a bit of context.
Healing from RA/ROCD has been a huge part of my journey over the last few years. Despite its challenges, or better yet because of them, I’ve learned so much about myself, healing and what it truly means (i.e. not the Instagram version), and why relationships are such potent crucibles of transformation.
I have come to see that there are countless threads with the RA/ROCD experience that when unwound and unraveled reveal a network of false beliefs, unconscious patterns, and protective strategies that I believe we all struggle with to some degree. My vision for this newsletter and those that follow is to pull one of these threads at a time and use it as a window not only into my own experience, but also as a way to explore the internal barriers to real love and connection that so many of us face.
There are dozens of factors that contribute to why someone struggles with RA/ROCD and related experiences. Trauma, poor modeling of healthy relationships, a tendency towards perfectionism and anxiety more generally, and a low tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty all play a role. But what I would like to highlight here is the impact that contemporary culture and modern social influences have on how we view relationships and what we expect from them.
Very often the stories we hear, the images we see, and even the advice we receive completely miss the mark on what partnership is. Sadly, this leaves so many of us with unrealistic ideas of what to expect and drastically unprepared for what is required for a meaningful, fulfilling, and lasting relationship.
The layers to this are endless. From age old notions of “the one,”embedded deep in our collective psyche, to a social media environment fed by pop-psychology, pseudo-spirituality, and to put it plainly, celebrated narcissism — it is no wonder that we are so relationally undeveloped and at times even immature.
One area of social influence I see as particularly problematic is the dating and relationship advice given to women. I have noticed a trend where women are urged to constantly be on guard for even the slightest “misalignment” with their partners and potential mates. When such a maligned attribute is detected — perhaps a slight difference in values or a distaste for a particular quality — it would be considered nothing less than self-betrayal to further the connection, while choosing to end it is touted as an act of personal empowerment.
Much of this advice is couched in language praising women for “knowing their worth,” “honoring their truth,” and “following their intuition.” And while of course, these are vitally important qualities worthwhile of genuine cultivation — I suspect that in this context the essence of these sentiments is often missed and marred in a way that propagates a much more superficial treatment of them.
I suspect that underneath this appealing and seductive facade lives the faulty assumption that even a single box left unchecked on our long of list desired qualities signals irredeemable incompatibility. And perhaps even more poignantly, such a method of navigating relationships leaves zero room for any form of negative emotion or discomfort that might arise in getting to know someone, or let alone, in sustaining a long-term partnership.
Viewed from the lens of RA/ROCD and related struggles, this is an elaborate and culturally endorsed protective mechanism. These amorphous and impossibly high standards will always prioritize keeping us safe from the risk of choosing the “wrong” partner over ever giving a perfectly flawed human a chance to love us the best they can.
This is our psyche’s attempt to “protect” us from the messiness of our own humanity. And there is nothing messier than what happens when two hearts — with all of their fears, vulnerabilities, and blindspots — collide.
But the thing is, this is where the good stuff is made. The depth and intimacy we think we are saving ourselves for by erecting these protective walls is actually blocked and prevented by them. The kind of closeness we want is not built from perfect compatibility and smooth sailing. It is built from wading through the turbulence of the polarizing parts of our personalities and finding a way to still fit together, even more strongly than before.
Some might bail on this undertaking before it has a chance to bear its fruit in the relationship, fearing it’s necessity indicates they would be settling to stay. But from everything I have learned over the last few years, this couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, this is what is required for real love to grow and mature into something beyond the superficial layers of self-serving infatuation and into a love transformed by the inherently selfless commitment to a deep and long-lasting partnership.
And so, with all this said, let’s return to the story of how Tom and I met…
As you’ll recall, Tom said approximately one sentence to me before I smugly wrote him off as anyone I could ever be interested in. I did not question for a single moment that there was anything wrong with regarding our brief encounter as instant and legitimate grounds for rejection.
And while, thank goodness, I did not listen to this line of reasoning. Had I done so, I would not have shared those beautiful moments with him later in the canyon, let alone the relationship we have built over the last four years. But I also would have never been pushed to question the belief structures that failed to teach me the realities of what it means to choose to love someone.
And though I was blind to this at the time, the version of me who turned my nose up at Tom was completely intolerant to the possibility that a potential mate might have qualities that I don’t like. That we would disagree and argue sometimes. Or that there would be occasions where I would feel hurt, disappointed, or even angry. And that all of this can exist in a healthy, loving, and fulfilling partnership.
This journey has taught me that the real work of being in a relationship has absolutely nothing to do with finding the person that checks all of our boxes, but instead has everything to do with becoming skilled at the dangerous and delicate art of loving someone for exactly who they are. Saying yes to this endeavor will require much of us — not the least of which will include fashioning an armor of grace, strong enough to accept and endure the shortcomings of both our partners and ourselves.
It may not sound romantic, but I assure you it is one of the most transcendently beautiful qualities that only intimate partnership can draw forth from within us. This kind of grace is the pinnacle of our human capacity to rise above our lower, egoic instincts and choose over-and-and-over-and-over-again who we want to be in relation to the person who sees all of us.
This is what expands our capacity to love. It stretches us and challenges us to create space in in our understanding of what partnership is to include the full range of our human experience colliding with our partner’s. This is what allows love to wrap itself around two flawed hearts with unbreakable strength, creating the deeply bonded and fulfilling relationship we so long for.
kari ann levine 