top of page
Search

Every Relationship Starts with the Relationship to Yourself


Imagine you are standing on a scale. On one side — you. On the other — your partner. Sometimes it tips one way, sometimes the other. And you ask yourself: Why can't I find this balance? And how can we find it together?


The answer is not in the other person. It lies in you.


Every relationship with another person can only be as good as the relationship you have with yourself. That sounds simple. And at the same time, it is exactly where most of us stumble — myself included.


The Scale Between I and YOU


In my eyes, a healthy and fulfilling relationship consists of an I and a YOU. A symbiosis of two individuals, both of whom are complete in themselves. When we talk about relationships, we usually mean romantic relationships. And although as a relationship coach I work with all kinds of personal relationships — family, friendship, work — this article focuses specifically on romantic love. Because in my own experience and that of my coaching clients, it is there that we most often tip this natural balance. Love simply does something entirely different to us.


I always compare it to a scale: the I on one side, the YOU on the other.


When we focus too much on the YOU — too strongly on the partner — we lose ourselves in the relationship. When we focus too much on the I, we lose the connection to our partner. Both situations show an imbalance. And only when both sides — the I and the YOU — carry equal weight does a healthy WE emerge.


Of course, this does not work perfectly every day. There will be situations, weeks, or even months where an imbalance is unavoidable — through illness, loss, separation, or other blows that life deals us. Those are the moments that show how strong a relationship truly is. But that is not what I am talking about here. I am talking about ordinary everyday life.


It is about strengthening the I and the YOU — so that the WE can work.


Why Is This So Hard?

I know this only too well from my own life. As someone who learned to constantly adapt, but at the same time always felt the urge to break free when the adaptation became too much, I still find it hard sometimes to hold this balance. Too much focus on the YOU — and eventually I feel the inner pull to escape, because I have lost myself. Too much focus on the I — and my partner feels neglected, or I feel an emptiness inside, because my longing for deep and real connection is so strong.


Our early childhood experiences play a significant role in this. Attachment research — founded by John Bowlby and further developed by Mary Ainsworth — describes three patterns that help explain why we lose this balance so often.


Some people learned that love is unpredictable — sometimes there, sometimes not. So they adapt, do everything for the other person, just to avoid being left. What looks like care from the outside is often people pleasing: something you do to receive love, not to give it. This is  called the anxious-preoccupied attachment style. You lose yourself so deeply in the YOU that you eventually no longer know who you are.


Others learned that closeness threatens their autonomy — that they were rejected for showing their true self. So they choose distance. Even in a relationship, they keep others at arm's length. This is the dismissive-avoidant: attachment style. The focus lies so strongly on the I that real intimacy becomes almost impossible.


And then there are those who know both: the pull toward closeness — and the moment it arrives, an equally strong pull to become autonomous again. Neither with nor without. Mary Main, a student of Ainsworth, described this as the fearful-avoidant attachment style (also known as disorganized). For me, as someone who carried this pattern, that inner chaos was very familiar.


It was only when I began to truly listen to my patterns, my emotions, and my thoughts — to accept them, to give them space, without letting them dictate my behavior — that I could learn to show up more securely in relationships.


From the Head Back to the Body


What helped me most in those moments — and what I also work with in my coaching — is the path back into the body. Away from the head, away from the thoughts that spin an entire story within seconds. Toward what is actually there.


When I noticed that I had adapted too much again and frustration was rising, I tried to pause. Sometimes only afterward. It takes a high degree of awareness and honesty with yourself. I listened to my body. Where do I feel something right now? What sensation is there? What emotion is underneath — and what does it want to tell me? What do I actually need?


Because body, emotions, and thoughts influence each other. And the crucial thing is: we never react to a situation itself — we react to the emotional meaning we give it. A meaning that often comes from old experiences and that our nervous system still believes to be true. And when something in the present triggers that, the alarm goes off. And before we have even understood what is really happening, we react — we attack, withdraw, or adapt all over again.


For me, the beliefs were: closeness is dangerous to my autonomy. I cannot be myself in a relationship. My needs do not matter.


Behind those beliefs were emotions like frustration, fear, and helplessness. What I actually wanted was simple: the reassurance that closeness and autonomy can exist at the same time. That sounds so obvious — and yet it was something I had to learn. And am still learning. In the relationship. With my partner.


And that can only happen when you go into communication with your partner and be vulnerable with him — but not out of frustration, and not when you have already hit the extreme. Only when you have understood yourself and found some calm again. Because most of the time, your partner has no idea what is going on inside you and suddenly gets confronted with a reaction that seems to come out of nowhere. When you approach them from that grounded and loving place, you can find a way together that works for both of you. That is real relationship work.


Relationship Wounds Do Not Heal in Solitude


I wish I could offer an easier path — but there is no shortcut here. The only sustainable way to real, fulfilling relationships that truly fit you is to build a relationship with yourself first. With all your parts — the light sides and the shadows — to hear them, recognize them, accept them, and treat them with compassion.


And one more thing: relationship wounds cannot heal when you are single. The word itself says it. They heal only in relationships — through a partner who mirrors back what you carry inside. Your partner can support you in that. But they are not your rescuer. And they should not be.


What This Looks Like in Everyday Life

It is completely normal — and actually important — to have time for yourself, even when you are in a relationship. To do things that are just for you. A hobby, exercise, going for a walk, seeing friends, reading a book, sitting in a café and slowly drinking a coffee. It does not matter what it is. If you do not know what brings you joy, just try things out. It is allowed to take a few attempts. I love doing this myself. Even if sometimes my old fear still shows up and tries to talk me out of it — because I learned: autonomy and closeness at the same time is not possible.


When I came fresh into a new relationship after years of inner work and on-and-off dating, I was already afraid of falling back into my old pattern. And at the same time, I was simply in love. That phase of being in love made me want to spend every moment with my partner — and it was also beautiful. That time does not come back. But I quickly noticed that I had started adapting again. Saying yes to things I did not want. And eventually the pull came back — the need for more space. My fear of losing my autonomy and not feeling truly safe in this connection put an additional strain on us. So there was no way around it: I had to recognize what was happening and do the inner work again. This time, at least, I knew what was going on. I was afraid that my partner would not accept my need for more space or a simple "no, I don't want to do that." But growth does not wait for the fear to disappear. It takes fear by the hand and goes anyway.


When I started doing more things on my own again, guilt came up first. My partner had not said a word — but it was so deeply anchored in my system. If that happens to you too: it does not mean you are doing something wrong. Your body is simply reacting to an old pattern. You will notice that you feel better afterward. And that you have more to give your partner — because you have given something to yourself.


I was also afraid, on our shared holidays, of doing things alone or not joining in on something that simply did not interest me. I had learned that you do everything together — especially when you travel. And at the same time I noticed how irritable I became when I went against my own nature. At some point the glass is full. I learned from our first trip. By the second big holiday I was more aware: sometimes I join in on something he suggests and am glad I did. Sometimes I clearly say no and sit outside enjoying the sun until he gets back. And every time I learn again: autonomy and closeness are not opposites. Both are possible. Even if I have to relearn that. And sometimes — especially at the beginning — it is a little chaotic. But it is honest. And it is human.


If you are single right now, the same applies. It is the perfect time to finally focus on yourself. To find out what you love. To enjoy your own company — and stay open at the same time. Others notice this immediately. People with a secure attachment style will find exactly that attractive: someone who is whole in themselves and is not looking to fill a gap in someone else.


And please be patient — with yourself and with your partner. If you are both learning this for the first time, sometimes it will work well and sometimes it will not. There will be days when you hold the balance and think: yes, I have got this. And then there will be moments when your old pattern shows up again and it feels like you are starting from scratch. That is not a step backward. That is growth. Because growth is never a straight line upward. Approach what you are learning with compassion. You are building a new skill — and the more you stay with it, the easier it will become. Eventually it will turn into something new entirely. A habit that feels like you.


The Key Is YOU


A relationship is not a substitute. It is not a place to fill an emptiness. It is a place where two people come together of their own free will — to give, to grow, and to build something together.


And the key to that lies with you. Not with your partner. Not in the perfect relationship. With you. In your body, in your emotions, in the relationship you build with yourself and tend to every day. Only when the I and the YOU are strong can the WE truly work.


That does not mean you have to go through all of this alone. Quite the opposite. But it does mean that the most important relationship you will ever have is the one with yourself. When you nurture that — with honesty, with compassion, with patience — you bring something into a relationship that no other person can give you: yourself. Whole. And that is what real connection is made of.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page