Once, during a past relationship, a conflict sparked one night.
He said I was too clingy, too demanding as if I could never get enough of anything. (Of course I did get more than enough to make me want to erase part of my memory) Too many phone calls, texts, unwanted attention.
What, then, should I do about it? I asked, at the time. Give some space?
So, then, I did. I gave some space and filled my own with other things I loved more. Until one day he said I was too cold. Distanced, aloof, as if I didn’t need anything from him. Annoyed, I asked, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I grew so cold, he said, that he suddenly realized how he missed how I was, how it made him felt loved.
Needless to say, it was never the same, and the relationship ended not long from then.
Guilt has always driven me to try changing how I am to make things better. Not that it works that much. Perhaps because neither I nor whoever he is really have a clue. Yet, I often can’t help trying to find a balance point of how I should be, how I should act in order to make a relationship work. At the same time, I’m not really sure that balance point exists. If it does exist somehow, I’m not sure I can or want to reach it.
Which leads me to a thought that sometimes slips off my mind. A relationship shouldn’t be spent working your way into a perfect balance of, for example, neediness and independence. Balance will come from imbalance, so to speak. Compatibility comes from those always changing imbalances. Once you can be open to criticism, once you can evaluate and adapt willingly, both of you, you’ve got nothing to worry about.