Power Games in Personal Relationships

Recently I've been feeling like the world is a game of power. Not only in politics between the rich and the mighty, not only in traditional verticals at work, but also with our nearest and dearest – our romantic partners, friends and family members.

It feels as if everyone wants things to go their way and others to follow, holding it against each other whether we find time to call or meet up, how strongly we feel, how much we invest… We feel entitled to special treatment, because we know we're a friend, a parent, a partner, a spouse. We use social constructs and definitions as instruments of control. Love becomes a liability, levers to push and pull.

These days, in the age of popularised psychology, we know that a lot comes from childhood wounds and unmet emotional needs: unhappy families, an experience of being bullied in school, first experiences of love, of heartbreak and betrayal…

Left unresolved and unhealed this silts through into the workspace, resulting in status signalling and status chase. It infiltrates our minds and the whole being, it whips our egos up to insatiable insanity.

We copy our early life experiences and apply them to our everyday life and relationships with people. We feel hurt and resentful when rejected, we seek approval, we're longing for love... Seeking outside for the love that can only be found within.

One of my resolutions for this year was working on and improving my relationships with my parents, which was one of the reasons I chose to move back to my home country.

However, relationships are hard work, and feelings are extremely fragile – they can't be forced or rushed. We can wear rose-tinted glasses imagining ideal relationships, but when it comes to reality – afraid to revert into the person we used to be, not knowing how to protect our space, not wanting to lose control –  we become defensive, impatient and, at times, hostile.

I try to cultivate the feeling of love towards my parents; I remind myself how much they invested into bringing me up, the things they sacrificed, the pleasures they depraved themselves of. I don't want to be ungrateful, however, when they hold against me how little we see each other, this adds up to my feelings of unhappiness and guilt.

'In our family portrait we look pretty happy…'

It's sad and funny how I carry that into my romantic relationships, like a chain reaction, I demand the same from the person I fall in love with. Like a train at full speed unwilling to stop, I overinvest, then demand a return. I want special treatment, a special place in the other person's life.

But what if we just let them be themselves? What if we accepted them for who they are, instead of trying to get them tick our boxes? What if, in result, we started accepting ourselves for who we are and looked at everything we did with kindness and understanding of a gentle caring parent?

We forget that by forcing ourselves onto someone, we rob them of their freedom. We should remind ourselves that another person's space is their human right. If someone doesn't have time for us, it isn't a reflection of our worth. We should step back, give space and let them come to us when they're ready. Not forced, not pressured nor manipulated. Because their freedom is what makes them beautiful, and love loses its power when it's forced.

'Freedom, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has bestowed upon men; no treasures that the earth holds buried or the sea conceals, can compare with it; for freedom, as for honour, life may and should be ventured; and on the other hand, captivity is the greatest evil that can fall to the lot of man.'

–  Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra