They don't need to be your everything
My hot take on relationships that may make people who subscribe to Hallmark's version of love nervous
Proof that you can have the time of your life outside of romantic relationships.
Last week, in my shop, with a margarita in one hand and a Shopify POS system in the other (we call that power double fisting), I listened to a young woman speak about the complexities in her relationship. By young, I mean old enough that she could be my grown daughter, which perhaps reflects my age more than hers.
I mulled over the recount of her recent therapy session. She wasn’t necessarily asking for input, but as far as I’m concerned, you don’t share personal details with strangers unless you’re looking for something from them—validation, guidance, a free drink. When she finished, I had one thing to say to her: Interests and values are two different things.
Now I get it, I’m not the obvious choice to seek relationship advice from. To the undiscerning, I’m the older woman that people warn you about, her long list of “failed” relationships cascading behind her where that luxurious satin train should fall. The one who has the nerve to age independently, pushing 50 years old and yet secure in not needing to find her person, lost in the fantasy of her own Eat Love Pray story that centers herself rather than heteronormative monogamy.
It’s precisely because of my hot take on relationships that may make people who subscribe to Hallmark's version of love nervous that I felt like I had something to share with her then and now again with you.
Our parents, teachers, friends, co-workers, the media, and basically all of society teach us that we will find true happiness when we find our perfect match. There is one person who holds the key to our hearts, and when they unlock it, life just settles into place. It’s why we expect them to be our everything, to meet every need and fulfill every desire.
We create our lists, the boxes to tick. As well thought out as we’d like to believe they are, this process is relatively haphazard. I would argue one reason is that we don’t discern enough between interests and values.
And we wonder why we keep swiping left.
Let me back up a bit… I’m what you would consider “outdoorsy,” as are many people who tend to interact with. When you subscribe to popular outdoor culture and live in mountain towns, there are rules:
Your partner should be able to keep up. If there are no friends on a powder day, then there definitely aren’t any lovers who might shed a few tears or have some choice words for you when you sandbag them.
If you are a heterosexual woman, then ideally your partner is better than you. You’ll squint real hard past all of the bullshit to match up with this guy.
If you are a heterosexual man, it’s ok if your partner is better than you but only if she doesn’t make you look bad.
There is something fundamentally less-than about you if you don’t recreate hard. You just don’t get it and your life can’t be as good. Go back to the Bay Area or whatever flat land you came from, you can’t breath up here anyways (is that what explains your poor driving and why you ruin the skin track?).
There’s a lot of pressure to conform to these rules, and they are quite formative. The judgment, elitism, and exceptionalism are unnecessary and quite limiting. So, I thought I’d do this person a solid and share why I don’t believe someone’s interests should be the defining factor when it comes to relationships.
One’s not better than the other, but they are different
Interests are the things that pique our curiosity; they motivate us to explore more. They may turn into hobbies—skiing, hiking, traveling, baking, reading, sewing—or they may never be pursued in such a way that makes them a regular part of our lives. Interests vary and they can be fleeting.
Values, on the other hand, are the ways in which we see the world and the ways in which we choose to conduct ourselves in that world. They are the beliefs that we find most important. We may or may not be passionate about them; we may or may not pursue them in an effort to find joy, as we do with interests. Values are the glue that holds relationships together, whether they are intimate, romantic partnerships or platonic, committed relationships.
When you find people who share your values and your interests, you hold them close. You invest in those relationships, regardless of romantic feelings. When you build this support system, this close-knit community, there’s no need to put all of the weight on a single intimate partner. It doesn’t matter if they can’t ski the lines that you do or if they don’t ride bikes as hard or insert whatever activity they need to do at least as well as you, if not better. It allows your relationships to evolve through shifting interests that are a natural part of the ebb and flow of life and, other times, unfortunately, forced upon us by injuries or other life circumstances that don’t allow us to pursue them in the same way.
There’s you, there’s me, there’s other fish in the sea
One of the most liberating ah-ha moments of my life was when I realized that no matter what happened in my intimate relationships, I would never be alone in doing all of the things that bring me great joy. My non-romantic, committed relationships are just as important to me as my intimate partners. And no matter what happens, I know that I’ll always have someone to run up and down mountains with, fast and slow and everything in between. And if our schedules don’t align, I’ll always have me because that relationship with myself is just as important too.
I don’t depend on one person to be my everything. Over the course of my lifetime, while I have dated professional outdoor athletes, I have also welcomed wonderful people into my life who I may have overlooked had I adhered to that elite outdoor culture. I’ve never sacrificed my values in any of my relationships, and I’ve never let my interests define them either.
We find true happiness when we have a large and diverse chosen family — those people who share our values and interests, show up for us, and love us for who we are. They rarely check every box. In the Venn diagram of happy relationships, rather than expecting one human being to fit perfectly in the center, expand your circle and let more people play in the middle.