This touched something painfully personal in me Patri. I know what it is to love someone deeply, yet slowly realise that my pain could be diminished, negotiated with, or simply not fully seen when it stood in the way of his pleasure.
That changed something inside me.
Love should never require me to abandon myself so that someone else can feel fulfilled. My body, my pain, my boundaries were never enough proof of how much I loved him.
Now I know that the deepest intimacy is not being wanted. It is being safe in the hands of the person who wants you.
Pika, this is so beautifully said: “the deepest intimacy is not being wanted. It is being safe in the hands of the person who wants you.” Yes. There is such an enormous difference between being desired and being cherished — between someone wanting access to you and someone caring for the whole person who lives inside that body.
And I understand the wishing you had known sooner. I feel that too. But perhaps some things we only come to understand because we lived through their opposite. I’m grateful you shared this here. ❤️
Maggie, I really understand this. And I don’t think being “ready for a Poldark man” has to be the goal. Maybe the first gift is simply getting to experience what it feels like to be fully yourself — without managing someone else’s expectations, desires, or disappointment. Whether another relationship eventually becomes part of that life is almost beside the point.
And after a marriage where desire became expectation and expectation became obligation, I can understand why safety with another person might feel very far away. Maybe you don’t have to know yet whether you’ll ever get there. You just get to notice how it feels to belong to yourself again. ❤️
Patri-I feel lucky to have found you early. You are going to EXPLODE out there if you keep this up. I relate to every word you write. You have a gift for articulating the barbs of relationships that so many of us have struggled with in our first half. Both in marriage and in dating. I haven't seen the show you reference, but what struck me about Drake (as you described him) was that she told him who she was and he BELIEVED her. He didn't secretly nurse an expectation that he could change her based on their love. Or that when she saw he was different those that came before, she'd cave. Admittedly, I see women do this much more often than men. Believe that their love and care can fix the other in ways small and large. It's usually subconscious, until hindsight reveals that what we thought was acceptance was really compromise with an unspoken contract to change. Your article has me thinking that of how the unspoken contract sours. For men it shows up as entitlement, for women as feeling duped. I have been both the victim and perpetrator of this. I've been single almost 15 years, and while I've made steady progress to both become aware of the pattern and how it shows up, I find it is more and more subtle when it shows up. Until it simply became more effort than it was worth. I look forward to reading more of your experience.
Amy, thank you — and I love the way you’ve put this: *what we thought was acceptance was really compromise with an unspoken contract to change.* That really resonates with me. I think we can genuinely believe we are accepting someone while quietly holding onto the hope that enough love, patience, safety, or time will eventually make the thing that hurts us different.
And I’m struck by your point that we can occupy both sides of this. I certainly have. I’ve felt the pain of realizing someone’s acceptance of me came with expectations I never agreed to, while also having to recognize the ways I’ve loved people partly for who I imagined they might become. Maybe part of mature love is learning to believe people when they tell us who they are — and then deciding whether we can actually love the relationship that exists, rather than the one we hope it might become.
Thank you for giving me another layer of this to think about.
This touched something painfully personal in me Patri. I know what it is to love someone deeply, yet slowly realise that my pain could be diminished, negotiated with, or simply not fully seen when it stood in the way of his pleasure.
That changed something inside me.
Love should never require me to abandon myself so that someone else can feel fulfilled. My body, my pain, my boundaries were never enough proof of how much I loved him.
Now I know that the deepest intimacy is not being wanted. It is being safe in the hands of the person who wants you.
How I wish I had understood that sooner.
Pika, this is so beautifully said: “the deepest intimacy is not being wanted. It is being safe in the hands of the person who wants you.” Yes. There is such an enormous difference between being desired and being cherished — between someone wanting access to you and someone caring for the whole person who lives inside that body.
And I understand the wishing you had known sooner. I feel that too. But perhaps some things we only come to understand because we lived through their opposite. I’m grateful you shared this here. ❤️
😍🌺😍🕉️😍🌺😍,,, yes 🥰 yes 🥰 yes 🥰 Beautiful, Thank you so so much Very very Nice 😍🥰🌹🌹🥰😍
Thank you for this 🙏
I can't verbalise why this resonates so much for me.
'Desire becomes expectation. Expectation becomes obligation' pretty much sums up the marriage I used to be in.
I'm not ready for a Poldark man, and maybe I never will be.
Safe enough to be fully myself with a man?
I'm not sure I'll ever get there to be honest.
Maggie, I really understand this. And I don’t think being “ready for a Poldark man” has to be the goal. Maybe the first gift is simply getting to experience what it feels like to be fully yourself — without managing someone else’s expectations, desires, or disappointment. Whether another relationship eventually becomes part of that life is almost beside the point.
And after a marriage where desire became expectation and expectation became obligation, I can understand why safety with another person might feel very far away. Maybe you don’t have to know yet whether you’ll ever get there. You just get to notice how it feels to belong to yourself again. ❤️
Wonderful piece
Well said. If only that truly existed. I guess it can, but it is difficult to find.
Patri-I feel lucky to have found you early. You are going to EXPLODE out there if you keep this up. I relate to every word you write. You have a gift for articulating the barbs of relationships that so many of us have struggled with in our first half. Both in marriage and in dating. I haven't seen the show you reference, but what struck me about Drake (as you described him) was that she told him who she was and he BELIEVED her. He didn't secretly nurse an expectation that he could change her based on their love. Or that when she saw he was different those that came before, she'd cave. Admittedly, I see women do this much more often than men. Believe that their love and care can fix the other in ways small and large. It's usually subconscious, until hindsight reveals that what we thought was acceptance was really compromise with an unspoken contract to change. Your article has me thinking that of how the unspoken contract sours. For men it shows up as entitlement, for women as feeling duped. I have been both the victim and perpetrator of this. I've been single almost 15 years, and while I've made steady progress to both become aware of the pattern and how it shows up, I find it is more and more subtle when it shows up. Until it simply became more effort than it was worth. I look forward to reading more of your experience.
Amy, thank you — and I love the way you’ve put this: *what we thought was acceptance was really compromise with an unspoken contract to change.* That really resonates with me. I think we can genuinely believe we are accepting someone while quietly holding onto the hope that enough love, patience, safety, or time will eventually make the thing that hurts us different.
And I’m struck by your point that we can occupy both sides of this. I certainly have. I’ve felt the pain of realizing someone’s acceptance of me came with expectations I never agreed to, while also having to recognize the ways I’ve loved people partly for who I imagined they might become. Maybe part of mature love is learning to believe people when they tell us who they are — and then deciding whether we can actually love the relationship that exists, rather than the one we hope it might become.
Thank you for giving me another layer of this to think about.
Beautiful. Yes to this!
This was so beautiful and affirming. Thank you.