Moving in with your partner during lockdown

I recently moved in with my partner during the lockdown and since this big chapter in my life, my mental health has become a lot less consistent than before. I guess I'm writing this because I haven't heard many people talk about these challenges in detail and I'm intrigued to see if readers resonate or understand where I'm coming from. Over the last two years or so, I've made a consistent effort to do things that I know are good for my health. I am lucky to say that by and large these tenants I live by have kept me in good stead. I'd be lying if I said it was all plain sailing and that there were not times of feeling lonely, a bit empty inside, along with existential dread but these periods thankfully haven't lasted so long. I am blessed to have lived in environments that rarely prevented me from harnessing my mental health. I have also never lived with someone I am in a relationship with.

I've heard and read several single people express how difficult it is being single during such a period. They cite not having someone to share these volatile times with as a source of sadness. I can totally appreciate this perspective. I can't deny that very often I am comforted by my partner being with me during the dark winter months when planning for the future is fairly impossible and activities that gave me ecstatic moments have been taken away until God knows. I also have to be honest and express the difficulties I have faced while moving in and living with my partner during the lockdown. There are times where I can't figure out whether or not it is fair to evaluate the dynamics of the relationship under such unprecedented, extreme and intense circumstances.

Is this because we haven't had enough personal space and opportunity for personal expression, or is this a sign of something deeper? That perhaps we are in fact, two people that can't healthily live with each other during a global pandemic and lockdown? Does this reflect on our compatibility during ‘normal times’ as well?

Am I getting pissed off because my partner is selfish or because my unrealistic image of them is unravelling too quickly for me to adjust?

Why am I so impacted by their mood throughout the day (and vice versa)?

Am I having doubts about the strength of the relationship because my mind is in a negative rut or is my mind in a negative rut because the relationship is showing a lot of gaps?

Can I really feel happy and at peace when I know they aren’t?

Why does the toothpaste cap have to be on all the time? (Half joking)

I have been confronted by these questions consistently over the last few months and one reason why I think I struggle with them so much is that I haven't heard a lot of couples express these difficulties. I started to think that my experience was indicative of a relationship on the rocks. I appreciate that couples may not want to articulate in too much depth their difficulties living with their partner, considering the fear of judgement that many of us hold and the judgmental culture we live in. I also acknowledge that perhaps I have not really interrogated this area enough with my friends who are living with their partners. I just know that I've heard various forms of “oh, the first few months are tough” throughout my adult life. Recently, I've had to accept that I need more than that.

Finding the balance and boundary between being connected with your partner but not totally reliant on their state of being for your own nutrition is a real challenge for me. You love this person - it is logical that you feel some sadness when they are upset and that their smile brings a smile to your face, but at what point does this become an unhealthy attachment? I'm convinced the answer to this is different for every couple as we all have different ideas of what love means in a relationship and how a healthy relationship feels (however slight these differences may be). However, examining it with my partner on a regular basis is crucial to finding that balance. This feels like a never-ending juggle sometimes but I'm starting to realize that maybe, that's what I signed up for.

The true and often uncomfortable reality is that I can feel a shift in my partner's mood as if the room itself shifted a centimetre or two. Sensitivity can be both a gift and a curse - it helps us to be mindful of others yet can be confusing if the proper context isn't provided. It's easier for me to feel a shift and walk away as if that shift is their problem, not mine. I don't know too much, but I know feeling like you're walking on eggshells with your partner, with whom you live and share your space, during a pandemic-enforced lockdown, is not a step in the right direction, nor is it comfortable for anyone. That's not to say we are responsible for the feelings and reactions of others - we're not. I am constantly re-learning this lesson, that we are separate, and that there are boundaries. I don't know if these boundaries need to be written down or how they healthily become knitted into the fabric of the relationship, but accepting my partner's shifting, and the limitations attached to that, is proving challenging and energy-sapping.

Despite the challenge, I have a sense that communication must enter the picture here. It's difficult, but every time I check-in, tune in, ask, ‘hey, how are you doing?’ I feel better for acknowledging the shift. Not only does my sensitive mind and soul feel better, but I also have more information about what's happening in my partner's world - it would be a mistake to assume our worlds are constantly consistent. I slip into this too often.

I think it is common to expect those close to us, perhaps especially our intimate partners, to share everything with us. And that if we don't share something - if we don't feel the same way about an event or don't have the same passion for a hobby - that we're inevitably a bad match. But compatibility and relationship health are much deeper and expansive than these daily differences. Relationship health, just like our own physical and mental health, is something to be built and worked on consistently.

I believe that part of healthy relationships is to allow space for this difference in perception and experience - to allow your partner, and yourself, to have differences in feeling, reaction, opinion, and to not assume these differences reflect or tarnish the core dynamic you share. So, getting information about our partners' mental and emotional state is key. But also, to allow space for the other person to be exactly who they are, as they are, in any given moment. This sounds simple but really asks quite a lot of us. Doing this means we put our own desires aside - desires for how we want our partner to act, what we think they should do or not do, how we think they should feel. These desires of ours are based on our own perceptions and experiences, and those don't always jive with other people's lives and minds. I know I'm struggling with this, but I'm hoping with time balancing our moods will become more of a complex Latin dance than a tug of war.

 A wise woman said 'we feel what we feel' (yes, I might quote Sharon Salzberg every piece this winter). Sometimes, our mind doesn't want us to fully feel what we are feeling, but meeting ourselves where we are rather than where we want to be is the best gift we can give to ourselves, right? In a life where we feel pressured to put on a front for our co-workers, our family, even our closest friends, maybe it is the biggest sign of gratitude and love that your partner actually wants to feel what they are feeling around you, and vice versa. That they trust you so much that they can be vulnerable in expressing exactly what they are, who they are in any given moment. I'm trying to shift from 'wow, it feels like we're rarely feeling the same' to 'wow, it feels heartening to know they feel that they can be how they truly are right now with me'. I fail often, but it feels like a just aspiration.

While the temptation to change your partner is sometimes unrelenting, whether it's their behaviour, their attitude, their goals, or something else, I believe that the highest expression of love is allowing the other person to be exactly as they are. This doesn't mean accepting abusive behaviour or staying with someone despite having entirely inconsistent goals or future plans. It means communicating your own expectations of how you want to be treated and how you want to exist in a partnership and asking your partner to show up for you. We ask this out of respect for ourselves and for the other person. We deserve to be treated in a way that makes sense to us, to exist in partnership in a way that affirms and respects us. Your partner, and your relationship, deserve to know this information - the expression of your desires, needs, feelings, and goals is essential to allow a healthy relationship to blossom. This expression also allows your partner freedom and choice regarding whether or not they can and want to show up in the way you are asking them to.

An example: I expect to be treated with kindness. But I don't judge my partner if they are having a hard day and snap at me for a moment (let me rephrase - I often judge by habit, but I'm consciously trying to be mindful of those judgements and to let them pass without affecting my behaviour). I give my partner that space - knowing that this behaviour isn't abusive, it doesn't cross a hard boundary for me, but it isn't acceptable all the time, either. I've communicated my expectation for kindness, and because my partner is also mindful of me and how I want to be treated, they recognize that at that moment, they fell short. We discuss, we forgive each other, knowing that we are both human and will never consistently live up to each other's expectations. And we continue on, always trying to be the best versions of ourselves so that we can bring that person to the relationship.

Another wise woman has said, ‘behind every criticism is a wish.’ Unfortunately, I didn’t have access to Esther Perel’s pearls of wisdom growing up. I grew up where articulating deep wishes wasn’t so common, so I unconsciously mask my wishes in criticism very often (some critiques being more compassionate than others). This habit may take years or decades to unlearn. But even if we criticise or receive criticism in a not-too-friendly manner, we can, with real mindfulness, reach a perspective where we see this as an unrequested wish or unmet need and that can make the next steps easier for both parties. One fresh example I can recall is my partner criticising my approach to tidiness when I’m tired (why is it always when I’m tired?) and I respond in a rash way. There is forgiveness shortly after but still, the underlying issue hasn’t really been addressed. My partner has a need and it is not being expressed. This happened a few times before I remembered ‘behind every criticism is a wish’ and I started taking it less personally, and began considering how can I meet this need. I can assure you we are limping through this process and very much open to suggestions!

I write this with the hope of continuing this exploration for myself and others. I can't be the only one at sea, and if I am, and every other person in a relationship reading this doesn't have these thoughts/difficulties, then I guess I'll have to meet myself where I am. Allow myself to feel what I feel. And in the same way, I must strive to meet my partner where they are. To let go of my judgements and accept what’s happening, both to us as individuals and between us as partners. Equanimity is so elusive - I crave it more now than ever before. But maybe that is because its usefulness and necessity are clearer to me now, as I struggle with these questions of attachment and boundary more than ever before.

“Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy. Our need for togetherness exists alongside our need for separateness.” Esther Perel

By James O’ Connell and Katie Owens