On relationships
Sometimes, I feel like I’m not good at this whole relationship thing. I doubt myself constantly. I think about how I’m supposed to be supportive, kind, and gentle, and lately, I don’t feel like I’m living up to any of those things.
Take my partner’s hobby, for example. I encouraged him to get back into drawing, and when he decided to do it, I thought, “Good on him, that’s a great idea.” But that’s about where my excitement ended. He asked me for help upscaling one of his images, and while I helped a little, I got frustrated when he asked for specifics. I told him it was probably something he should figure out on his own and that I’d love to hear what he discovered. I said it as kindly as I could, but deep down, I felt guilty for not being more invested. Shouldn’t I care more? But honestly, I just don’t.
Then there’s studying. We’ve been preparing for an upcoming muscular system test, and I dread studying together. Last time, when we tackled the skeletal muscles, it took forever. He kept forgetting things I had already memorized, and I felt like I was carrying more of the weight. The muscular system is even harder, and the thought of going through the same process again makes me want to scream. I know it’s awful to say, but I feel like I can learn much faster on my own.
But isn’t that what being in a relationship is about? Tackling hardships together, being a team? If we’re not doing that, are we failing as a couple? Or is that just what society wants me to believe? I don’t know. I feel angry at myself for thinking this way—and, in a way, angry at him for making me feel like this in the first place.
Even little things, like deciding what to eat, feel complicated. Tonight, I wanted something quick and simple, but my partner wanted to make soup, which required a ton of prep. Being the “good boyfriend” I’m trying to be, I offered to help. I chopped all the ingredients, we cooked together, and the soup turned out… okay. Some things were a bit raw, but it was fine. Still, I would’ve been just as happy with something microwaveable—something my partner doesn’t seem to enjoy. I probably should’ve spoken up, but isn’t eating the same meal part of being a couple?
I keep asking myself if I’m doing enough, if I’m being the partner I should be. I try to hold myself to this impossible standard: always supportive, endlessly patient, putting the relationship first. But the truth is, I’m human. Sometimes I need space. Sometimes I need to study on my own. And sometimes I just want to eat something different.
The hardest part is figuring out where these expectations come from. Are they mine, or are they ideas I’ve absorbed from the world around me? I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t have all the answers, and I’m trying to figure things out as I go. It’s a work in progress, and I just hope that in the process, I’m not hurting anyone’s feelings along the way.
Edited by Philip
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