The downfalls of being passive in a relationship

One of the significant things during grad school was being in a relationship with “H”. I met him through the social group I had become part of, the grad student and young professional crowd. The group met up weekly for dinner.

For a few weeks our friendship revolved around driving to these events together. I had a car and he didn’t. Plenty of his friends showed up for these meals, so it wasn’t like he had no other options, but he asked me for a ride. I wasn’t in a position to say no, to refuse a ride when I had the chance to give one. Eventually he got a car for himself and he returned the favor by driving.

Before the spring semester began in 2009, I planned a day trip of reflection with some girl friends to help get the new year started right, to help with focus and perspective. Since it was about 1.5 hours away, we went to the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament, the monastery where Mother Angelica (founder of EWTN) and her order lived. Somehow “H” heard about this trip and asked if he could go. I had wanted it to be just the girls, but again, it seemed weird to keep someone from participating if they wanted to be there. So he joined us.

It was a wonderful day, and afterward, “H” called me to say thank you for driving and including him. We ended up talking on the phone for about an hour, and to my surprise, it wasn’t unpleasant. I normally hate talking on the phone but this wasn’t torture. He got me laughing a bit. It was actually enjoyable.

He took the opportunity to ask if I’d join him for coffee the next day. I wasn’t interested. My focus was on the coffee part of that invitation, because I don’t like coffee. But he took the rejection in stride and we hung up. The next day he called again and asked once more about getting coffee together. He was certainly persistent. Maybe there were hints of wanting to do something before the craziness of classes got started. I agreed to meet him, not because I really wanted to, but because I thought maybe it would be a “once and done” kind of thing and he’d stop asking. Just get it out of his system.

Hmm … I’m sensing a pattern of being passive, of going along with something instead of saying how I feel.

We met at the coffee shop; I got a smoothie. Talking to him was pleasant enough. I remember we got on the subject of dating. I told him I wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone; I needed to focus on grad school. My classes would be demanding enough without the added pressure. He seemed to hear this and understand.

And yet about a week later we were talking again and he flat out asked me on a date. It was totally awkward. I was stunned. Were you not listening to me the other day? Are you really going to force me to reject you, to your face? But I did. Somehow I found the courage to say no. It was painful. Ever the people pleaser, I didn’t like to disappoint others. And yet, I didn’t cave. That was impressive.

So we continued to spend time together. I hate admitting this, but we mostly hung out because I felt bad for him. It was out of sympathy. I was more comfortable in my independence and solitude, but he was definitely not ok with being on his own. For some reason it seemed like it was up to me to change that. I felt responsible for his happiness. And that’s a very dangerous and weighty responsibility to take on.

One day he asked me to join him for dinner. It wasn’t quite as blunt as that. It was dressed up as a tradition of his for celebrating his birthday. I took him at his word, but I’m sure he was exaggerating. He said he always went for a nice dinner before marking another year. Under the guise of friendship, he asked me to join him for dinner. And taking that friendship status to heart, I agreed.

It was a bit unsettling in the car on the way to the restaurant to hear him share that all of his friends thought we were already dating because of the amount of time we spent together. I could only laugh. What a crazy idea. But it was outrageous enough of a comment to sort of break the tension.

And then, surprisingly enough, I had a really great time. It wasn’t super awkward sitting with him in a restaurant, talking about who knows what. It was enjoyable. My smile and laughter weren’t forced. And I recognized it in the moment, I’m having a good time. After dinner I realized I didn’t want to just end things, to just go back to my apartment, so I suggested taking a walk along the riverfront. That was enjoyable, too. I began to wonder, Was I too quick to dismiss the idea of dating?

From there, we did start to date. It was certainly refreshing to have someone who cared about me. Someone who wanted to know how my day went, who wanted to get to know me. He was very sweet and did his best to make me happy.

I’m not most girls

And yet … it was challenging to be myself. It was challenging to open up. It was challenging to be vulnerable.

He would share personal information, open up to me, and I couldn’t. The words gathered in my throat but I couldn’t push them out. They just got stuck. I wanted to share, but there was a lot of fear and uncertainty. And I couldn’t help thinking that most girls never shut up. What’s wrong with me? I felt like we were in a type of role reversal.

He’d call multiple times a day, just to check in, just to see how things were going. These calls stressed me out. I didn’t want to talk. If we talked once in the evening that would be too often for me. It was a point in my life where I really struggled with knowing what to share, so I didn’t feel like I had anything to say. This was with “H” and with others. I didn’t call home every day for the same reason.

And yet, I couldn’t find the words to tell him. I couldn’t express what I needed. I got stuck in the loop “well most girls would appreciate this attentiveness, so there must be something wrong with you” or “How can you request something different when everyone else would be fine with this?” I honestly had no idea that it was ok to let someone know what was helpful and what wasn’t, if I needed something different in our interactions. Because that seemed like it would fall under the category of being “bossy” and “demanding” and I didn’t want to cause problems.

There were other moments, too, where he would phrase things in a way that there was only one real way of responding: he expected me to agree with him. Now this may be something as unimportant as identifying a favorite food or a more complicated admission of missing him during the day. Seriously? I’m in seemingly constant contact with the guy. How is it possible to miss him? Yet, I didn’t feel comfortable contradicting him. I had glimmers of understanding how this was a type of controlling/possessive behavior. It’s not that I felt he was capable of violence if I disagreed with him or anything like that, but there was an unsettled feeling about these encounters.

Honestly, I don’t think “H” did any of these things on purpose or was consciously trying to exert control. Nevertheless, these habits of his were received in a negative light. And things were further complicated by my inability to vocalize what I needed from him or to tell him I was uncomfortable.

After a few months, I did finally break things off. I wasn’t happy. I was ducking his calls, letting them go to voicemail rather than answering. There were so many little things that I wasn’t able to address with him that just ate away at me internally. I finally reached my limit of what was annoying me and it surfaced in a burst of “I can’t do this anymore!!”

Once more I was in a position where I needed to explain. I needed to verbalize what was bothering me, why I needed this relationship to end. Why this wasn’t just a sudden realization but something that was bubbling beneath the surface for quite some time. And the words weren’t there. But there was a nearby notebook, so I grabbed that, stepped away and tried to write things out. It was a cop out, but at least there was a way of expressing something even remotely helpful.

We went our separate ways. It was awful. We were planning to attend the second day of a music festival, so that was tainted. I went up on my own only because an artist I had longed to see live was performing; the whole reason for learning more about the festival. There was a numbness, though, with being surrounded by people who were enjoying themselves.

What I learned

I’m sharing these highlights because I don’t want to repeat this experience. I don’t want to passively get into a relationship. It should be my choice; not a matter of trying to make someone else feel better. And I certainly don’t want someone to go out with me out of pity.

I’m sharing because it’s important to feel comfortable enough with who you are. It’s important to recognize what you have to offer. To value your own thoughts, opinions, preferences and needs enough to vocalize them without fear of how they will be received. And it’s absolutely important to let someone know if they do or say something that bothers you. I didn’t realize I had a right to that.

I’m sharing because I wish I understood and appreciated my writing ability for what it was. It offered an outlet, an avenue for sharing that verbal communication just couldn’t match. There was an ease and naturalness in expressing myself through writing, and I constantly viewed it as a cop out, an easy way out, rather than the powerful tool it really is.

I’m sharing because I finally see that I’m not like this anymore. I’m getting more comfortable in speaking up for myself. As I move forward, I don’t have to be afraid that I’m stuck in this role. I’ve grown a lot since that year in grad school. While sharing and opening up can still be scary, I’m less controlled by the all-consuming fear of how I’ll be received. I’ve had enough experience with other people to gain confidence in what I share and reveal.

I’m sharing because I see more in myself now. At the time, I was convinced that “H” liked spending time with me simply because I listened to him. I let him express himself without judgment. He had his own trouble with verbal communication and people often cut him off or mocked him. I was so convinced that was the only thing he really liked about me. But there’s so much power in how you treat other people! It should be considered a primary trait, a characteristic that you look for first, beyond physical appeal, financial success and so on. I didn’t see it that way, of course. Being kind, an active listener and empathetic seemed like passive things, secondary traits. They are anything but passive.