Janet is 66, successful, evolved, and, most of all, anxious.
Her marriage ended—as so many do—after 26 years. Like many women, she saw the signs when the kids were little, but she stayed until they were grown.
After her divorce, she did what most women do: got online and found a man with a common background, common interests, and great intelligence.
There was only one problem.
While he said he wanted a long-term commitment, their relationship wasn’t deepening. He was cautious because of his past, never said “I love you,” and seemed perfectly content spending time together without making plans for the future.
Janet knew they were doomed within the first month.
She stayed for a year.
That’s when she reached out to me.
Now, Janet is in the best relationship of her life.
When we spoke last week, she told me how her boyfriend attended a conference that wasn’t remotely in his wheelhouse simply because he wanted to understand her better.
THAT kind of man. And yet, old fears die hard.
Because of her self-described anxious attachment style, Janet tends to react strongly whenever there’s a bump in the relationship. During their first few months together, there were at least two times she told me she was going to break up with him, even though he hadn’t done anything notably wrong.
Then something happened that made her wonder if she’d chosen the wrong man all over again.
She and her boyfriend were on a road trip. He was driving. She was navigating. As they approached an exit, the GPS lost its signal. He wasn’t sure whether to get off or stay on. Janet couldn’t get it together in time.
He snapped.
He was frustrated they’d missed the exit and now had to drive ten minutes out of the way. A few minutes later, he came back and apologized.
Janet wanted to know if this was a red flag and she should break up with him.
As Janet was telling me this story, my face slowly broke into a smile.
To be clear, I don’t think her boyfriend handled it well. He was short-tempered. Janet was only trying to help, and technology got in the way.
The reason I smiled was because almost the exact same thing had happened to me and my wife the week before.
We were driving on the freeway at 70 miles an hour when the GPS told me one thing and my wife told me another. Suddenly I had two competing navigation systems talking at the same time. I trust my wife, but she was overruling the map I was looking at.
I followed her directions.
They were wrong.
And yes, I barked at her for talking over the GPS and taking us in the wrong direction.
I was frustrated. It wasn’t pretty.
Five minutes later, we were okay.
It didn’t say anything about my character, my communication skills, or my devotion to my wife. It was a brief moment fueled entirely by stress: one man behind the wheel trying to process contradictory information at 70 miles an hour.
These things happen. Then they’re over.
The problem is that anxious people often don’t let them be over.
They turn one bad moment into evidence that the relationship itself is bad.
Relationships have to be able to withstand moments like these—especially if, as in Janet’s case, the car is the only place she’s ever seen her boyfriend lose his temper.
So I asked her one question: “If I could guarantee your relationship would continue exactly like this for the rest of your life, except four times a year your boyfriend would lose his temper while driving and every time he’d apologize afterward, would you take that deal?”
Without hesitation, she said yes.
Pretty much everyone I’ve ever met—men and women alike—doesn’t want to be judged or abandoned for their worst moments.
Your power lies in how quickly you come to repair.
It’s not whether someone will occasionally say or do something that frustrates you.
They will.
It’s what they do afterward that matters.
Do they double down?
Do they turn frustration into insults or silent treatment?
Or do they recognize they were wrong, apologize, and make things right?
A huge part of my job is telling women to leave men who lack character, kindness, and communication skills. Those are the relationships where she’s walking on eggshells half the time and is afraid to express an opinion.
Janet’s relationship is nothing like that.
When we were on Zoom last week, her boyfriend was in the kitchen making her dinner while she sat there positively giddy about their future together.
That’s what I want for every client.
There’s no relationship without conflict, but with a little help, you can find a healthy relationship that’s strong enough to survive it.
Love,
Evan
* This article was originally published here
