Maybe It Isn't Just a "Bad Relationship"

I used to think I was pretty good at recognizing a bad relationship.

I knew the obvious things. Don't let somebody hit you. Don't let somebody blatantly disrespect you. Don't stay with somebody who treats you terribly. Simple.

Except relationships are rarely that simple when you're the person inside one.

Nobody really prepares you for the relationships that contain love and dysfunction.

The person can be affectionate. They can make you laugh. The chemistry can be incredible. They can show up for you in meaningful ways. You can have nights when you talk for hours and genuinely believe nobody understands you the way this person does.

And you can still be in a relationship that is slowly exhausting you.

We learn love before we ever start dating

I think we underestimate how much we are taught about relationships before we ever have one of our own.

We watch our parents. Our families. Our friends. Our communities. Movies. Music. Social media. We absorb what people around us tolerate.

We hear women joke about men who disappear for three days and come back like nothing happened. We hear people say jealousy means somebody really cares. We watch couples break up and get back together over and over and call it passion. We see somebody checking their partner's phone and everybody laughs about it. We watch people humiliate each other online and then post anniversary pictures two weeks later.

And somewhere along the way, dysfunction can start looking incredibly ordinary.

There is research behind part of this. Longitudinal research suggests that emotion regulation can be one pathway through which patterns of romantic relationship conflict carry across generations.¹

That doesn't mean you're destined to repeat what you saw. It means familiarity is powerful.

Sometimes we aren't consciously choosing chaos. Sometimes chaos simply doesn't register as unusual.

"No relationship is perfect" can keep us in some very imperfect places

I have said this. I've heard friends say it. Maybe you've said it too.

No relationship is perfect.

And technically, we're right. There is no perfect relationship.

Two people can love each other and still argue. You can hurt your partner's feelings. Your partner can hurt yours. You can become defensive. You can say something you wish you'd said differently. You can have completely different communication styles. Sometimes you're going to go to bed irritated. Sometimes somebody needs space. Sometimes old wounds show up in new relationships.

That's being human.

But I've realized that "no relationship is perfect" can also become something we say when we're trying to make ourselves comfortable with behavior that is hurting us.

There's a difference between we have problems and this relationship has become the problem.

I didn't always know where that line was.

I used to confuse intensity with intimacy

This is probably one of the hardest things for me to admit.

There have been relationships in my life where everything felt intense. The attraction. The arguments. The breakups. The getting back together. The wondering. The missing each other. The disappointment. The reconciliation.

When you're inside something like that, the intensity can feel like evidence. We wouldn't feel this much if this wasn't real.

And maybe the feelings are real. That's another thing I've learned.

Something doesn't have to be fake to be unhealthy.

You can genuinely love somebody you're not capable of having a healthy relationship with. Someone can genuinely love you and still not know how to love you in a way that creates stability.

Love and relationship skills are not the same thing. That realization changed a lot for me.

Confusion became something I was too comfortable with

I've experienced relationships where someone's behavior and their words didn't seem to match. Where I felt deeply wanted one moment and emotionally uncertain the next. Where intimacy remained available even when commitment or emotional consistency didn't. Where we would reconnect after something painful without necessarily changing what created the pain.

I've also been on the other side of unhealthy behavior. I've withheld things. I've made decisions I wasn't completely honest about. I've stayed connected to people when emotionally I wasn't entirely finished with someone else.

I think that's important to say.

Because when we talk about "toxic relationships," everybody wants to figure out who the toxic person was. Sometimes that's necessary, particularly when there is abuse. But sometimes two people can create a deeply unhealthy dynamic together.

Two hurt people don't automatically heal each other. Sometimes they trigger each other's wounds perfectly. And I think I've experienced that.

Your nervous system can start participating in the relationship too

This is where my understanding of relationships has changed the most.

When a relationship becomes unpredictable, your attention can start organizing itself around the unpredictability.

What mood are they in? Why haven't they responded? Are they pulling away? Did I say something? Are we okay? Should I ask? Should I wait? Should I text? Should I pretend I don't care?

Your body can become part of the conversation before you've said a word. Heart racing. Stomach tight. Can't sleep. Checking the phone. Replaying the conversation. Trying to figure out what changed.

I want to be careful here. Not every uncomfortable sensation in a relationship is "nervous system dysregulation," and I don't think that language should be stretched to explain everything. What I can say is that emotional regulation appears to matter in close relationships. Research following couples over time suggests that the ability to regulate negative emotion during conflict can be associated with relationship satisfaction, although some findings have differed by partner and gender.²

The important distinction for me is this: feeling activated around your partner sometimes doesn't mean your relationship is unhealthy. Relationships will activate you.

The question is what repeatedly creates that activation, and what the two of you do with it.

Healthy doesn't mean nobody gets triggered

I used to think a healthy relationship would probably just feel easy. I don't believe that anymore.

You bring your history into relationships. So does your partner. You bring insecurities. Expectations. Fears. Attachment patterns. Past heartbreak. Things you learned growing up. Things you promised yourself you'd never tolerate again.

Healing doesn't mean all of that disappears before you're allowed to love somebody. And being regulated doesn't mean you never get angry.

I don't need a partner who has completely "healed from everything." I don't think that person exists.

What matters to me now is whether we know how to handle ourselves when the unhealed parts show up. That is a completely different standard.

So what does healthy love actually look like?

This is what I would tell my little sister now.

Don't only pay attention to how somebody loves you when everything is good. Watch what happens when something is uncomfortable.

• Can you say no?
• Can you disagree?
• Can you tell them they hurt you? Can they tell you that you hurt them?
• Can somebody be disappointed without punishing the other person?
• Can somebody ask for space without using silence as a weapon?
• Can you apologize without attaching an explanation that makes the apology meaningless? Can they?
• Can you have an argument without wondering whether the entire relationship is over?
• Can you maintain friendships, interests, opinions and boundaries outside of the relationship?
• Can you tell the truth even when the truth is uncomfortable?

Those questions tell me more about a relationship now than chemistry ever could.

Research on couples points in a similar direction. What happens after conflict appears to matter: greater ability to recover following conflict has been associated with more positive relationship emotions and greater relationship satisfaction.³

What partners do to support each other emotionally may matter too. One study found that valuing a partner, using humor, and listening receptively when trying to support a partner's emotions were associated with greater relationship satisfaction.⁴ The researchers note that their design cannot establish which direction the relationship runs.

In other words, healthy relationships aren't relationships without negative emotions. They're relationships with better ways of handling them.

A healthy relationship gives you room to be a whole person

This might be my biggest one.

I want to be able to remain myself while loving somebody.

I shouldn't have to constantly shrink myself to preserve the relationship. I shouldn't have to avoid certain subjects because I'm afraid of what happens when I bring them up. I shouldn't need to perform indifference because expressing a need gives somebody too much power.

And my partner shouldn't have to do those things with me either.

Healthy love has boundaries. It has two separate people inside it. You don't become one nervous system. You don't become responsible for preventing every uncomfortable emotion your partner experiences.

Pay attention to repair

I've become much less impressed by apologies. I'm more interested in what happens after them.

Does the behavior change? Do we understand what happened? Do we make a different decision the next time? Can we come back together after conflict without pretending nothing happened?

That's repair.

And repair is not "I'm sorry you feel that way." It's not disappearing for three days and coming back affectionate. It's not reconnecting physically after a terrible argument when the actual issue never gets discussed. It's not apologizing every month for the same behavior.

I wish I'd understood the difference between reconciliation and repair much earlier.

And then there are things we shouldn't normalize at all

I also don't want nervous system language to soften behavior that needs to be named clearly.

Being "triggered" doesn't excuse controlling somebody. Trauma doesn't excuse humiliating your partner. Being dysregulated doesn't excuse threatening them. Having abandonment issues doesn't make excessive monitoring acceptable. And somebody's difficult childhood does not obligate you to absorb mistreatment while they figure themselves out.

Not every unhealthy relationship is abusive. But some behaviors should not be explained away as someone simply being dysregulated. The CDC recognizes psychological aggression — verbal or nonverbal communication intended to emotionally harm a partner or exert control over them — as a form of intimate partner violence, alongside physical violence, sexual violence, and stalking.⁵ National survey measures of coercive control include behaviors like restricting someone's access to money, isolating them from friends or family, excessive monitoring, threats, and making decisions that should belong to the other person.⁶

There is a difference between someone who needs better conflict skills and someone who is trying to control you. We shouldn't blur that line by calling everything "dysregulation."

Your friends can normalize things too

This is something I don't think we talk about enough.

Sometimes your relationship seems normal because everybody around you is experiencing the same thing.

Your friend says, girl, that's just how men are. Someone else says, at least he comes home. Another person says, you know relationships take work.

Or everybody has a story about cheating, disappearing, screaming matches, phones being searched, people having backup partners, revenge, blocking each other and getting back together.

Eventually the bar can become: well, he isn't as bad as hers.

That's not a healthy standard. Your relationship shouldn't need to win a dysfunction competition before you're allowed to admit something hurts.

Social media can distort the other direction too

And social media doesn't necessarily help.

On one side, we romanticize chaos. On the other, we label every uncomfortable interaction a "red flag." Someone needing space becomes avoidant. Someone feeling jealous becomes toxic. An argument becomes narcissistic abuse. A mistake becomes a reason to leave immediately.

Neither extreme teaches us much about relationships.

Real healthy relationships contain friction. The goal isn't to find somebody who never activates you. It's to build something where both people can experience difficult emotions without routinely turning those emotions into harm.

What I would tell my younger self

I would tell her that butterflies aren't always information about compatibility. I would tell her not to confuse being wanted with being chosen consistently. I would tell her that chemistry can be extraordinary with someone who is completely wrong for her. I would tell her that love doesn't automatically create trust. And I would tell her that someone's potential is not the relationship she's actually living in.

But I would also tell her something about herself.

You have to become the kind of partner you're asking for too.

You cannot demand honesty while keeping secrets. You cannot ask someone to communicate clearly while disappearing when you're hurt. You cannot demand emotional safety while using somebody's vulnerability against them. You cannot expect someone else to regulate every emotion you don't know how to sit with.

Healthy love isn't something the right person arrives and gives you. It's something two people have to know how to participate in.

Maybe peace will feel boring at first

I think this is especially important if you're accustomed to intense relationships.

Consistency may not give you the same adrenaline. A person saying what they mean and doing what they said may not produce the emotional high of wondering whether somebody is about to leave and then feeling enormous relief when they don't.

You may even wonder: where's the spark?

That doesn't mean every calm relationship is a good relationship. And excitement isn't unhealthy. But I think sometimes we need enough self-awareness to ask: am I missing chemistry, or am I missing uncertainty?

Those are not necessarily the same thing.

The question I ask differently now

I don't ask whether a relationship is perfect. I don't think that's useful anymore.

I ask: can I remain a whole person inside this relationship? Can I speak? Can I say no? Can I make a mistake? Can they? Can we disagree without trying to destroy each other? Can we tell the truth when the truth is uncomfortable? Can we take space and actually come back? Can we repair? Can I have needs without feeling ashamed for having them? Can I love this person without constantly abandoning myself?

That's a very different question from do we love each other?

Because I've learned something the hard way. Sometimes love is there. And sometimes love still isn't enough.

Healthy love is not perfect love

A healthy relationship isn't two completely healed people floating around in permanent nervous system regulation. That isn't real.

Healthy people get jealous. Healthy people get scared. Healthy people become defensive. Healthy people have trauma. Healthy people sometimes communicate badly.

What matters is responsibility. Can you recognize your pattern? Can your partner recognize theirs? Can you regulate enough not to intentionally wound each other? Can you take accountability when you do cause harm? Can you change behavior? Can you repair? Can you create enough safety that honesty doesn't constantly threaten the relationship?

That is what I understand differently now.

And if I were sitting across from my little sister telling her everything I've learned, I think I'd say this:

Don't judge your relationship only by how deeply you love somebody. Pay attention to who you have to become to stay with them.

If you're constantly anxious, monitoring, competing, explaining, shrinking, forgiving without change, questioning your reality or abandoning your own boundaries just to keep the relationship intact, don't dismiss that simply because nobody's relationship is perfect. Listen to yourself.

And if you realize some of those patterns are yours too, don't drown yourself in shame. Take responsibility. Learn. Get support. Change them.

Because the goal isn't to find a person who never triggers anything inside you. The goal is to build a relationship where neither person's wounds get to run the whole relationship.

And where love isn't just something you feel. It's something both of you know how to take care of.

Steady's Get Support experience can help you pause, regulate, and put language around what you're feeling before you decide what comes next.