When Trying Harder in a Relationship Becomes Self-Abandonment
Self-abandonment doesn’t always look like doing too little for yourself. Sometimes it looks like doing too much to keep a relationship alive.
When we think about self-neglect, we often picture a woman who never makes time for herself. She does everything for everybody else. She never puts herself first, never treats herself, and never rests. She is exhausted, and she looks like what she’s been through.
But there is a type of neglect that can lead to self-abandonment, and it does not always look that obvious.
You can get your hair done. Buy the dress. Take the trip. You might be a boss in a career you care about. You can appear to be taking very good care of yourself while putting yourself last in one of the places where it costs you most: your relationships.
When You Become the Main One Trying
I talked about this recently in a YouTube video using SZA’s Snooze as a starting point.
The song is a vibe, but what struck me when I really listened to the lyrics was the familiar relational position underneath it: I am trying very hard to make this work.
That position is not inherently unhealthy. Relationships require effort. Love asks things of us. Healthy relationships call for patience, compromise, vulnerability, accountability, forgiveness, and repair.
Trying is not the problem. The problem begins when trying becomes primarily one person’s job.
Maybe you are the one who keeps bringing up the problem, trying to find a solution. You’re the one monitoring the temperature of the relationship, trying to keep things from going wrong, changing your approach, being understanding, and making accommodations. You keep trying to repair the relationship and create enough stability for it to survive.
Meanwhile, the other person benefits from all of that effort without consistently matching it.
At some point, you are no longer simply participating in the relationship. You may be carrying it. And there is an important difference between the two.
Mutuality Is More Than Chemistry, History, or Intensity
A relationship can have extraordinary chemistry and still lack mutuality. You might have years of history and still lack mutuality. You can feel deeply connected to someone, miss them terribly when they are gone, have intense sex, share experiences nobody else understands, or believe that the two of you have something uniquely special.
None of those things necessarily mean the relationship is mutual.
Mutuality is about give and take. Both people participate in and carry some responsibility for the health of the relationship. Both people matter and can show up fully, even with their uncertainties and imperfections.
Mutuality is not scorekeeping and does not mean every task or responsibility is divided evenly at every moment. Relationships move through seasons. In some seasons, one person needs more support, and the other partner has enough capacity to pick up the slack.
However, there is a difference between a relationship where partners experience uneven periods together and one that becomes organized around one person doing more of the relational and practical work. Care should not flow primarily in one direction. Neither should honesty, repair, respect for needs, or respect for boundaries.
No matter how skilled, loving, insightful, or determined you are, you cannot create mutuality by yourself.
Why Trying Can Feel So Much Like Love
Trying feels virtuous. This is part of what makes these relationships difficult to see clearly.
Often, the thought patterns go like this:
If I keep trying, I am committed.
If I stay patient, I am compassionate.
If I give another chance, I am forgiving.
If I refuse to walk away when things get difficult, I am loyal.
And somewhere beneath all of that can be another belief: If I stop trying, maybe I am the one who failed.
Most of us have heard some version of the message that good things are worth fighting for. We are encouraged to persevere, not give up too easily, and keep trying when something matters to us. There is wisdom in that.
But while good things are worth fighting for, the fact that we are willing to fight for something does not necessarily make it good for us. Being willing to persevere is a sign that a relationship matters to you, but that willingness does not necessarily mean you should continue trying.
Sometimes trying protects us from having to confront what we already know. As long as we are still trying, we can focus on what might work next instead of on what has not worked—and what might never work.
Possibility can keep our attention fixed on the relationship we are trying to create rather than the one we are actually experiencing. Maybe if I explain things differently. Maybe if I am less reactive. Maybe if we communicate better. Maybe if I give it more time. Then maybe I’ll be able to get through to them. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
What Does the Relationship Consistently Show You?
Relational discernment asks us to pay attention to relational reality—not only to what the relationship could become, not only to what it was in the beginning, and not only to what happens when both people are scared of losing each other, but to what the relationship consistently shows you over time.
What happens after the apology? Does repair result in meaningful change, or does the relationship eventually return to the same pattern?
What happens after you explain how something affected you? When you express a need, is there room for it? When you establish a boundary, is it respected?
What happens when the relationship requires adjustment? After the promise to do things differently, are you both expected to change, or does that responsibility fall mostly on you?
Hope naturally draws our attention toward potential. We can see who someone is capable of being. We remember their best moments. We recognize their wounds, understand why they behave as they do, and imagine what might be possible if those wounds were healed.
But potential and relational reality are not the same thing, and discernment requires that we make room for both.
When Your Values Begin Working Against You
Many of the qualities that keep us invested in relationships are not bad qualities.
Love, compassion, loyalty, commitment, and patience all matter. However, living according to our values still requires discernment.
Love can make room for imperfection without requiring you to repeatedly abandon yourself.
Compassion can help you understand why someone behaves as they do without requiring you to excuse the impact of their behavior.
Loyalty can keep you grounded through difficult seasons without demanding that you become disloyal to your Self.
Commitment can sustain the work of repair without making one person responsible for doing all of the repairing.
Patience can allow time for change to unfold without locking you into waiting indefinitely for basic honesty, care, or respect.
Discernment can help you examine not only whether you are living according to your values, but how and where you are applying them.
You may be applying patience generously to someone else while withholding it from yourself. You may be extending compassion toward their pain while minimizing your own. You may be fiercely loyal to preserving the relationship while becoming increasingly disconnected from what you say matters to you.
That is worth noticing.
The Question Beneath “Do I Love Them?”
Nothing in this discussion is meant to imply that healthy love should be effortless. Relationships require work precisely because they involve two imperfect people trying to build something together. The key word here is together. No one person should have to disappear into the work of sustaining it.
When you love someone, it can be easier than you may realize to abandon yourself in your efforts to remain connected to them.
So perhaps “Do I love this person?” is not the only question worth asking.
You might also ask:
What parts of Self am I abandoning in order to keep proving that I love this person?
The answer does not automatically tell you whether to stay or leave, but it may tell you something important about what continuing to participate in the relationship is asking of you.
Are you thinking about therapy to explore relational concerns? Do you live in the states of Louisiana, Texas, or Washington?
At The Chrysalis Center, we support adult women in Louisiana, Texas, and Washington who are working through people-pleasing, chronic guilt, insecure attachment patterns, trauma bonds, and/or recovery after a breakup.
Schedule a free consultation or a paid Clarity Session to discuss fit and next steps.