Relationship — a word that can mean different things to each of us: some think only of romantic relationships, others of the parent-child bond, others of relationships with those close to us, with coworkers, and so on.

Some time ago, for me, the word "relationship" meant only romantic relationships. It never occurred to me that it could mean so much more.

Over time, I began to see more nuances in this word. I realized you can have a relationship with someone you meet only once in your life, yet still create a real connection.

The dictionary defines it like this:

Relationship = A bond, connection, or relation between things, facts, ideas, processes, or their properties. A connection between two or more terms. A bond between people, nations, states.

The dictionary mentions the word connection.

What does this word mean to you?

How do you know you're connected to someone?

Relationships come in many forms; they don't need a label — you can define them however they feel to you, based on how you relate to a particular person in your life.

For example, if you had to describe five of your relationships with the people around you in three words each, what would they be? And by relationships, I don't just mean the harmonious ones, but also the ones with tension and conflict.
Because usually, the least harmonious ones show you exactly where you still have work to do. Maybe you take things too personally, maybe you don't have the courage to say what bothers you and hope the other person will just guess your needs, maybe you don't know how to appreciate others but expect it from them, maybe you don't know how to listen and just want to prove how strong you are.

The way we relate to others comes from the patterns we picked up as children from our parents, then from teachers and educators. Some of these patterns may have served us for a while, but they no longer help us now. From time to time, I recommend observing how you react in certain situations and asking whether the outcome is really the one you want.

For example, you get angry when someone simply orders you around, and you push back: you argue and refuse to do it, or you do it and say nothing, even though you keep piling up more and more anger toward that person each time. How should you have handled it, or how will you handle it next time, so that neither scenario plays out and everyone ends up satisfied?

One starting point could be expressing what you feel, but without a tone of blame or judgment. The other person may not even realize they're doing it, especially if they treat everyone the same way.

We often don't say what bothers us, out of fear of upsetting someone or sparking conflict, but that's just an illusion, because the conflict is already there: inside you, and in your relationship with the other person. You won't be quite the same in that relationship as you were before, and if you change people without resolving the underlying issue, guess what? You'll meet someone else who treats you the same way.

Until when?

Until you learn to express yourself, to talk about what you feel, and to ask for what you need.

It took me some time to learn to express myself, too. I always used to think a coworker must have something personal against me, that they surely didn't like me. Wrong — these are just movies our own minds make up. Things left unsaid on the outside end up playing out on the inside: recurring thoughts, uncomfortable states, sometimes even physical illness.

What if, instead of simply blaming the other person when we get angry, we took a breath and looked at it from another angle: what if the other person is actually thinking about something completely different than the movie playing in your head?

Or as George Bernard Shaw put it:
"The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place."

Let's take the following example:

"— He knows that I know, but he says nothing.
— But why doesn't he talk to me, since he knows that I know? Why does he stay silent instead of putting into words the things I'd so much like us to talk about together? I keep asking myself all sorts of questions about him, answering for him in my head, imagining his feelings, then telling myself: he never answers when I ask him something.
So I don't bring it up, and I don't realize, don't notice, that it's precisely my silence and his silence that are blocking us both.

— But I won't tell him now, he might get upset, it's not the perfect moment, he might think I'm crazy… ah, he never understands me anyway, or pretends not to, doesn't hear me…
And meanwhile, he's carrying on his own inner dialogue about me, without my knowing what it's about, to avoid delicate or painful — sometimes imagined — questions."

And so, each of us silently asks the other the question that's weighing on us, and silently answers it ourselves, with whatever answer we're hoping for or dreading.

This habit of thinking on the other person's behalf almost always outpaces reality, which is usually far gentler than the darkest scenarios our minds can invent.

Carrying that inner dialogue above in mind, we arrive at conclusions like:
I know you're not happy with me
I know what you're going to say
I didn't tell you about this because I already knew you wouldn't listen anyway

These ways of avoiding dialogue come from certain fears: the risk of being refused, rejected, judged, or diminished if you dare to ask; the fear of not being understood or accepted; the fear of hurting the other person.

If you're still hoping your relationships will improve on their own, or that harmonious relationships depend only on carefully selecting the right people — like a beauty pageant — while your own involvement stays at zero, well, you have a long wait ahead of you.

If you want beautiful relationships with the people around you, it takes real, sustained work. Just as you go to the gym to work on your body, just as you go to school or take courses to train your mind, and go to work to build a career, you also need to work on your relationships.

We spend so much time on things that, in 1, 2, 5, or 10 years, won't matter at all, and we push relationships to the very bottom of the list — we forget ourselves, our own soul, and the souls of the people around us. We forget that things actually work the other way around: when you have harmonious, fruitful relationships with those around you, everything else falls into place far more easily, with far less effort.

A pleasant, seemingly unremarkable conversation with a coworker, a business partner, a doctor, a life partner, or the person selling bread can bring you unexpected gifts: ideas, recommendations, friendship, a burst of enthusiasm, warmth in your soul, a collaboration, a partnership proposal, and more.

We're used to fighting hard, with frustration and even aggression, for what we want, often at the expense of other people's values.

What we want for the future won't come only through advances in technology, business, or legislation — it will come, first and foremost, from the way we relate to one another: starting with how we speak to ourselves, to the person next to us, all the way to how we relate to those around us and what we pass on through the power of example.

When was the last time you checked the pulse of your own relationships?

With love,

Ralu