The wonderful actress Kerry Washington pointed out that there’s only one letter difference between ‘parents’ and ‘partner’ - just switch out the s with an r and there you are.

It’s a simple and smart encapsulation of a truth that defines, for and better and for worse, our intimate relationships.

Just as we inherit our parents' eye colour or sense of humour, we also inherit their relationship patterns. It's like an invisible hand guiding us towards familiar dynamics, both the good and the not-so-good. 

One of the biggest shifts about relationships I can share with you is that your relationship is a path.

A path to what?

The fairytale fantasy that so many of us are raised with is that our relationship will be fulfilling, rock solid, adventurous, sexy, and wild, inspiring - whatever's important to us will magically and perpetually be manifested by our choice of partner.

Wouldn't that be amazing?

When you step into growth-focused communities, whether it’s online or in person, working with a coach or a therapist, being in a group or reading stuff online, the phrase ‘doing the work’ comes up quickly and often.

But what does it mean?

In a nutshell, "doing the work" refers to some serious introspection. It's about taking a good, hard look at your patterns, habits, beliefs, and even your relationships.

I love being a dad. It’s brought so much joy, alongside a sense of deep purpose and identity.

I love being a dad, and I'm also relieved that my eldest is out of the home at university and he's almost not a teenager anymore. 

My daughter is 17, so she and I still have a ways to go and it’s a whole different trip.

I've felt the pressure to protect and provide, the confusion about how to parent, and the ongoing struggle it can be to show up as a dad, a partner, and at work day-in day-out.

A ridiculous number of years ago I was attending a workshop for people creating and building small businesses. 

One of the other attendees was an older guy (probably younger than I am today, now I think about it, it was that long ago). 

He loved his business idea and mansplaining why his business name was funny. He would express, actually declare, his opinions of various things.

Here's a story about me in a different phase of my life, in a whole different relationship.

We moved in together, split finances, bought a house, had kids.

All these things came from the relationship. They were supported by the relationship

BUT...

There's something wired into us that we're somehow failing if we have to ask for help or support.

There's fear that it shows weakness. And that our need for support might get used against us. The fear runs really deep and it stops so many men from reaching out, or accepting support when it's offered. It keeps us isolated and struggling.

Where did this belief come from?

I received some questions and reflections about last week’s post. 

Firstly, thank you.

Writing these posts helps me clarify my thoughts on things, but more than that it’s intended to offer thoughtful insight and support on your relationships. 

So, thank you for the warm glow of receiving your emails and comments that lets me know you’re reading it.

The gist of the feedback was ‘yup, putting a relationship on hold is a thing, because I’ve done it or experienced it’.

Then there was a question along the lines of, in our committed relationship ‘how do we know if our relationship is on hold?’.