Obligation

Obligation makes me feel nauseous. Like, properly sick. And yet here we are, so many of us, trudging through our relationships doing things we don't want to do because we think we should.

Last week, someone asked me how I manage the guilt involved with not wanting to do things that your partner wants to do or wanting to do things that you know your partner has no interest in.

It's interesting that so many people's definition of love is loaded with shitty obligations! I think love looks like two people choosing each other, again and again, because they actually want to be there. 

The reality of long-term relationships is that a third of the things your partner does will drive you completely mad. I don’t think that piling on a whole lot of stuff you know you don’t enjoy will make things feel any better! Two whole humans doing things that make them happy and better is the best way to meet in any relationship. Two unhappy people who are unable to function separately - for any reason - is a recipe for disaster. 

The people-pleasing part of us thinks that if we just do enough, try enough, sacrifice enough, our relationships will be perfect. But here's what I've learned: when you're giving from a place of obligation, you're actually giving from an empty cup.

This doesn't mean you never do anything you don't fancy doing. Relationships require compromise. But there's a massive difference between choosing to do something you're not thrilled about because you love someone, and feeling obligated to do it because you think you have to. The former comes from choice and love. The latter comes from fear and conditioning.

Larry David said, "A good compromise is when both parties are dissatisfied.” So many relationships seem to be built on this. Making the shift from "What am I supposed to do?" to "What do I want to do?" is a big shift. 

Doing more of what you want to do gives other people permission to do the same. The irony of this is that when I do more of what I want to do, I have more energy to give to others. I am nicer to be around, more inspired and more interesting. When I am excited about something, my enthusiasm is infectious. When I choose to be somewhere, I am present. 

It's like the difference between being dragged to a party versus choosing to go because you're excited to see people. Same party, completely different energy.

I think we've got this backwards idea that suffering for our relationships somehow makes them more meaningful. Like, if we're not constantly sacrificing ourselves, we're not really in love. But actually, healthy relationships are built on two people who are genuinely excited to share their lives together, not two people grimly fulfilling duties.

Your energy is precious. It's finite. And when you're pouring it into obligations, there's less available for the things that actually light you up. The irony is that when you start focusing your energy on what you love, you become more attractive to be around. You're more fun, more present, more alive.

Here's what I've learned about obligation in relationships: it's often a sign that you're not communicating properly. Instead of reluctantly going along with things, try having an honest conversation about what you actually want. You might be surprised to discover that your partner doesn't actually need you to suffer through their cousin's wedding or pretend to love their favourite TV show.

The most loving thing you can do is be honest about who you are and what energises you. Give your partner the chance to love the real you, not the obligated version of you.

And if someone in your life requires you to constantly do things that drain your energy, well, that might not be your person. Because the right person will want you to be energised, excited and authentic. They'll want you to spend your precious energy on the things that make you come alive.

One of my all-time favourite quotes is from the poem The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: ”I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself." Sometimes being true to yourself means disappointing people's expectations. And that's not selfish – that's honest.

Your energy matters. Your preferences matter. Your enthusiasm matters. Stop obligating yourself to exist until you die and start choosing what lights you up. Your energy will thank you for it.