Where Practice Meets Trust
The part where I ask for a piece of bread on a plate.
Dear reader,
Today’s newsletter is a continuation of the theme from last week. I’ve been curious about needs — the sensation of having them, being able to identify and communicate them, and the normalization of using them as a framework in relationships.
This week I would especially love to hear from you. I’ve left some questions at the bottom of the newsletter to prompt you to share if you feel like it. Comments are turned on for paid subscribers only. I encourage you to come over to the dark side if you haven’t already. Your support makes it possible for me to continue writing.
As I mentioned in my last letter, when my current relationship tanked in late September, I mostly blamed it on my partner for not being able to “meet my needs”. Full disclosure, it is entirely possible that my feelings were the result of a cyclical PMS rampage and that everything is and was actually fine.
It is also possible that my partner wasn’t showing up in ways that a large majority of the population, myself included, expects people in relationships to show up. Either way, questions started percolating through me in the days that followed our hiatus.
What exactly are my needs, and what’s at the core of them?
What would it look like to take full responsibility for these needs without hyper-individualism or shutting others out?
Are these needs that I feel strongly about sharing with others? Why?
Are these needs that I could best fulfill myself?
Are these needs that don’t really warrant a seat at the table of my life anymore, but are still hanging on for dear life?
In addition to these questions, I also couldn’t get this Kacey Musgraves song out of my head where she gently reminds us that if we find someone we like, we better hold on tight because it’s ugly out there. I like T. a lot, but I also respect and admire him, which for me is even harder to come by.
The thing is I actually want partnership, so I have to act like I want it too. I’m not convinced that I don’t act like a tyrant more than a team player sometimes. It isn’t sustainable to just want it and meet someone, but then cling to everything already in place about myself. Even if I’m not being asked to, being curious about updating my operating system seems logical if my goal is to keep a relationship. The same goes for T., of course.
It’s not that I entirely surrendered the idea that needs have a rightful place in partnership when we got back together, but simply letting these questions marinate helped me hold the possibility that there is an alternative to everything. Pondering these questions also reminded me that I can be a real hard-ass — on myself, and others. What would it look like if I didn’t abandon this relationship just because it wasn’t feeling exactly the way I thought it should?
I’m currently not willing to let the idea of my unmet needs be what separates me from other people. Other people do not have to be different before I can feel good. I might have to do things differently in order to feel good, but that’s okay. I can work with my behavior, I can observe my thoughts.
On Thursdays we host community potluck at the ranch. A theme is set at the beginning of every week and a group note is shared among my landmates and I outlining the guest list and the word to spread, like what ingredients to bring. When the day arrives, folks drive up the road around sunset, and come nightfall, somewhere between twenty and thirty people can be found huddled together, eating by the fireplace or at the long table in the library.