The I’s have it

It’s February and that means that love has been in the air, and that many of us are looking forward to the cosmic celebrations of new life that often abound in the spring. I’ve been trying to think of a good subject for this post and have danced and played with a variety of themes. I’ve finally decided on writing about a tool that I often use with couples in therapy. I’ve been very lucky in therapy. I’ve had individuals in their 80’s ask me about their sexual health. I’ve worked with decades-married couples for maintenance therapy, and I’ve had heart-broken teenagers ask me if they’ll ever love again. It should go without saying that the lessons I try to share can change dramatically between individual and situation. However, I’ve noticed a number of themes in this work and I hope that they have a larger and still practical application in all of our lives. First of all, we must love ourselves to love others. Likewise, we must love ourselves to allow others to love us. I often say that it is not possible to allow someone to love us more than we love ourselves. We can think of this in a numerical sense. If I love myself a 7 on a scale of 1 – 10, and someone comes along and loves us a 9, then even though I’ve found someone who loves us near-perfectly, I’ve still brought our relationship down to an 8. In effect, we can’t moor ourselves to a better partner and hope to be better ourselves. This has to be done independently. It does us a great service to remember that we are one half of every relationship we’ll ever be a part of. We get a much higher rate of return if we do our best to ensure that our half is well attended. The second tip I like to share is the use of “I statements.” Language is perhaps the most significant aspect of any relationship. It can lead to trust, as much as it can foment suspicion. If you partner wants to initiate an intimate moment would we rather hear them say “so, do you want to go lay down?” or would we rather hear “I want to lay down with you”? The idea is the same, the effects are worlds apart. The “I statement” is an instrument I try to teach for conflict resolution. It is a way of encouraging individuals to say how they feel instead of demonstrating it. I promise that our partners will understand if we say to them “I’m so mad I could throw a glass against the wall!” We don’t have to actually follow through with it. If our partner has left the milk on the counter for the umpteenth time, we might say “You left the milk out again.” It is human nature to defend ourselves when we feel attacked. We may even go so far as to defend ourselves when we otherwise wouldn’t want to. Responses to attacks can range from “yeah well you left your dirty laundry on the floor” or “If you saw it out, why couldn’t you just put it away?” If the goal is to have a fight, mission accomplished. If the goal is to help one another be more respectful of the expectations our partners have for us, then we’re still a long way off. The “I statement” is dependent upon mentioning one, and only one person in a declarative statement. That person is “I.” So, in the matter of the left out milk, we have the option of saying “I get so frustrated when I see the milk left out.” “It freaks me out that I’m going to get sick from spoiled milk that’s been left out.” The possibilities are endless. My argument is that these statements have the potential to make allies out of our transgressors. They might think to themselves, “man, I know that bothers my partner, I really need to do something to help me to remember to put the milk away.” If the goal is to assist positive change, it’s not mission accomplished yet, but I’d say you’re on the way. Love is a wonderful thing, and there is no doubt in my mind that humans are pack animals. We are like lions. A healthy lion belongs to a pride or family group. When you see a lion by itself it is normally because it is sick, or has been ostracized by its pride. Tigers are the opposite, the only time you see two tigers around each other is to fight over territory, or to mate. Humans are wired to co-exist with others. It doesn’t have to be marriage or romantic, but I’d argue that there is always room for love.