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I usually ask couples how they met when they come to me for marital therapy. Gayle and Paul were already separated and he had filed for divorce after fifteen years of marriage when they came for their first session. They had met in Germany
shortly after Gayle had graduated from college. She had just arrived, eager to begin her first teaching job on the military base. Although he was very handsome, she wasn't particularly attracted to him when an acquaintance introduced them. He didn't seem to be her type: he
was studious, quiet and reflective; she was outgoing, humorous, and sociable.
She was surprised when he telephoned to invite her to an American movie with German subtitles. She recalled that his German was almost fluent, and she was eager to practice her new skills with him. Following the movie they went to a pub for
coffee, and spoke mostly in German. During the next few months they spent more and more time together to study their shared passion. No one seemed surprised when they announced wedding plans a year later.
In contrast, Mark and Rene met in a
college history class. He noticed her the minute she
walked in the class; she had a beauty and an air of
confidence that turned heads. As she tells the story
now, he was too shy to ask her out, so she asked him for
their first date. Theirs was an immediate attraction and
they began dating exclusively. Against the advice of
their friends and families, they married four months
later and are still happily married after twenty-six
years and four children.
The Mystery of Romantic Attraction
During recent years, scientists from
various disciplines have studied attraction and romantic
love, and valuable insights have come from each research
area. Some biologists claim there is a certain
"bio-logic" to courtship behavior that ensures
survival of the species. According to this theory, men
are drawn to classically beautiful and healthy women who
have physical indicators that they are in the peak of
childbearing years.
On the other hand, women select mates
for different biological reasons. Women instinctively
choose mates with "alpha" qualities, the
ability to dominate other males and bring home the
lion's share of the kill. Thus, an aging corporate
executive is as attractive to women as a young and
handsome, but less successful, male.
Social psychologists explore the
"exchange" theory of mate selection. The basic
idea behind this theory is that we select mates who are
more or less our equals. We seek potential partners on
the basis of history, similar backgrounds, financial
status, physical appeal, social rank and personality
traits.
A third idea, the "persona"
theory, maintains that the way a potential suitor
enhances our self-esteem is an important factor in mate
selection. Each of us has a mask, or persona, that is
the face we show to other people. The persona theory
suggests that we select a mate who will enhance our
self-image. There seems to be some validity to this
theory; we have all experienced some pride and perhaps
some embarrassment because of the way we believe others
perceive our mates.
Although these three theories help
explain some aspects of romantic love, we are still left
with our questions. What accounts for the intensity of
romantic love? And why do so many couples have
complementary traits?
The more deeply we look at the
phenomenon of romantic attraction, the more incomplete
these theories appear to be. For examples, what accounts
for the emotional devastation that frequently
accompanies the breakup of a relationship?
The theories of attraction we've
looked at so far suggest that a more appropriate
response to a failed romance would be to plunge
immediately into another round of mate selection.
There is another puzzling aspect of
romantic attraction: we seem to have much more
discriminating tastes than any of these theories would
indicate. To test this idea, reflect on your own dating
history. In your lifetime you have met thousands of
people; as a conservative estimate, let's suppose that
several hundred of them were physically attractive
enough or successful enough to catch your eye. When we
narrow this field by applying the social-exchange
theory, we might come up with fifty or a hundred people
out of this select group who would have a combined
"point value" equal to or greater than yours.
Yet most people have been deeply attracted to only a few
individuals.
Furthermore, those few individuals
that people are attracted to tend to resemble one
another quite closely. Consider the personality traits
of the people that you have seriously considered as
mates. If you were to make a list of their predominant
personality traits, you would discover a lot of
similarities, including, surprisingly, their negative
traits.
Our Unconscious Mind
We all have a high degree of
selectivity, and for it to make sense, we need to
understand the role of the unconscious mind in mate
selection. We organize our thoughts, our days, our homes
and our routines into orderly and logical systems. The
conscious mind, however, is a thin veil over the
unconscious, which is independent, active and
functioning at all times.
Scientists who study the brain,
especially Paul McLean in his essay on "Man and His
Animal Brains" have concluded that the brain stem,
which is the most primitive layer, is the part of the
brain that oversees reproduction, self-preservation, and
vital functions such as circulation of blood, breathing
and sleeping. Around the top of the brain stem is the
portion of the brain called the limbic system, whose
function seems to be the generation of vivid emotions. I
use the term "old brain" to refer to the
portion of the brain that includes both the brain stem
and the limbic system.
We are unaware of most of the
functions of the old brain. Always on alert, it
constantly asks the question "Is it safe?"
Utilizing the fight-flight defenses that come from our
animal ancestry, psychologists see the old brain lumping
people into six basic categories; its only concern is
whether a particular person is someone to nurture, be
nurtured by, have sex with, run away from, submit to, or
attack. It is not capable of picking up on subtleties
such as "a neighbor" or "my cousin."
The old brain has no sense of linear time. Today,
tomorrow and yesterday do not exist; everything that
was, still is. Its memories, recent and very old, inform
its decisions about people and situations. McLean refers to the cerebral cortex,
a large, convoluted mass of brain tissue that surrounds
the old brain, as the "new brain" because it
appeared most recently in evolutionary history. The new
brain is the part of you that makes decisions, thinks,
observes, recognizes people, plans, anticipates,
responds, organizes information, and creates ideas. It
is inherently logical and tries to find a cause for
every effect and an effect for every cause.
You may recall that you sometimes have
feelings regarding your mate that seem alarmingly out of
proportion to the events that triggered them. For
example, let's suppose that you are a middle-aged man
working for a large company. After a hard day at work,
you drive home, eager to share your successes with your
wife. When you walk in the door, you see a note saying
she will be late coming home from work. You stop dead in
your tracks; you had counted on her being there! Rather
than sitting down to enjoy the evening paper, you head
straight for the freezer and eat a bowl of vanilla ice
cream, exactly what you would have done thirty-five
years ago if you had come home to learn that your mother
wasn't home yet. The past and the present live side by
side within your mind.
The Search For "One and
Only"
So how does this information add to
our understanding of romantic attraction? We seem to be
highly selective in our choice of mates. In fact, we
appear to be searching for a "one and only"
with a very specific set of positive and negative
traits. I have discovered from years of theoretical
research and clinical observation that we are each
looking for someone who has the predominant character
traits of the people who raised us. Our old brain is
trapped in the eternal now and, having only a dim
awareness of the outside world, is trying to re-create
the environment of childhood. And the reason the old
brain is trying to resurrect the past is not a matter of
habit or blind compulsion, as Sigmund Freud thought.
From my observations of thousands of couples have stated
they want from their partners, I have concluded that it
is a compelling need to heal old childhood wounds.
The ultimate reason you fell in love
with your mate is not that he or she was young and
attractive, had an impressive job, had a "point
value" equal to yours, or had a kind disposition.
You fell in love because your old brain had your partner
confused with your parents! Your old brain believed that
it had finally found the ideal candidate to make up for
the psychological and emotional damage you experienced
in childhood.
I am not suggesting that each of us
had serious childhood traumas such as sexual or physical
abuse or the suffering that comes from having parents
who divorced or died or were alcoholics. Even if you
were fortunate to grow up in a safe, nurturing
environment, you still bear invisible scars from
childhood, because from the very moment you were born
you were a complex, dependent creature with a
never-ending cycle of needs. And no parents, no matter
how devoted, are able to respond perfectly to all of
these changing needs. Tired, angry, depressed, busy,
ill, distracted, afraid -- parents often fail to sustain
our feelings of security and comfort.
Every unmet need causes fear and pain
and, in our infantile ignorance, we have no idea how to
stop it and restore our feelings of safety and
wholeness. Desperate to survive, we adopt primitive
coping mechanisms.
We cope as well as we can with the
world and our relationships by using the feeble set of
defenses born of the pain of childhood, a time when
parts of our true nature were suppressed in the
unconscious. We look grown up -- we have jobs and
responsibilities -- but we are walking wounded, trying
desperately to live life fully while unconsciously
hoping to somehow restore the sense of joyful aliveness
we began with.
Original Wholeness
We know little about the dark
mysteries of life before birth, but we do know something
about the physical life of the fetus. We know that its
biological needs are taken care of instantly and
automatically; we know that a fetus has no need to eat,
breathe, or protect itself from danger, and that it is
constantly soothed by the rhythmical beat of its
mother's heart. It has little awareness of boundaries, a
vague sense of itself, and is intrinsically connected to
the rest of the world.
As adults, we seem to have a fleeting
memory of this state of original wholeness, a sensation
that is as hard to recapture as a dream. We seem to
recall a distant time when we were more unified and
connected to the world. This feeling is described over
and over again in the myths of all cultures. It is the
story of the Garden of Eden, and it strikes us with
compelling force.
But what does this have to do with
marriage? For a reason out of our awareness, we enter
marriage with the expectation that our partners will
magically restore this old-brain memory of wholeness. It
is as if they hold the key to a long-ago kingdom, and
all we have to do is persuade them to unlock the door.
Their failure to do so is one of the main reasons for
our eventual unhappiness.
Falling in Love
When we fall in love, we believe we've
found utopia. Suddenly, we see life in technicolor. Our
limitations and rigidities melt away. We're sexier,
smarter, funnier, more giving. We believe that we can't
live without our beloved, for now we feel whole, we feel
like ourselves. For a while we are able to relax; it
looks like everything is going to turn out all right,
after all.
But inevitably, things start to go
wrong. In some cases, all hell breaks loose. The veil of
illusion falls away, and it seems that our partners are
different than we thought they were. We begin to see
qualities that we can't bear; even qualities we once
admired grate on us. Old hurts are reactivated as we
realize that our partners cannot or will not love and
care for us as they promised. Our dream shatters.
Disillusionment turns to anger, fueled
by fear that we won't survive without the love and
safety that was within our grasp. Since our partners are
no longer willingly giving us what we need, we change
tactics, trying to maneuver them into caring -- through
anger, crying, withdrawal, shame, intimidation, and
criticism -- whatever works. We will make them love us.
Now we negotiate -- for time, love, chores, gifts --
measuring our success against an economic yardstick of
profit and loss. The Power Struggle, the natural second
stage of marriage, has begun, and may go on for many
years, until we split, until we settle into an uneasy
truce, or until we seek help, desperate to feel alive
and whole again, to have our dream back.
Your Imago
Many people have a hard time accepting
the idea that they have searched for partners who
resembled their caretakers. On a conscious level, they
were looking for people with only positive traits --
people who were, among other things, kind, loving,
good-looking, intelligent, and creative. But no matter
what their conscious intentions, most people are
attracted to mates who have their caretakers' positive
and negative traits, and, typically, the negative traits
are more influential. When we fall in love, the lover is
always similar to the parent with whom we had the most
difficulty, thus will frustrate us like that parent.
Why do negative traits have such
appeal? If we chose mates on a logical basis, we would
look for partners who compensated for our parents'
inadequacies, rather than duplicated them. The part of
your brain that directed your search for a mate,
however, was not your logical, orderly new brain; it was
the time-locked, myopic old brain. And what the old
brain was trying to do was re-create the conditions of
our upbringing, in order to correct them. It can achieve
this only with a person similar to the person with whom
the wounds occurred. It is trying to repair the damage
done in childhood as a result of unmet needs, and the
way it does that is to find a partner similar to the
parents from whom it attempts to get what our caretakers
failed to provide. Although this looks a formula for
failure, it contains the seeds of our healing.
To find this person, the old brain
carries around an image of the perfect partner, a
complex synthesis of qualities formed in reaction to the
way our caretakers responded to our needs. This image of
"the person who can make me whole again" I
call the imago (ih-MAH-go). Though we consciously seek
only the positive traits, the negative traits of our
caretakers are more indelibly imprinted in our imago
picture, because those are the traits that caused the
wounds we now seek to heal. In other words, we look for
someone with the same deficits of care and attention
that hurt us in the first place. Why? Because this is
the type of person from whom the old brain wants to get
what it did not get in childhood. For the mating to
work, the partner who resembles the frustrating parent,
will have to develop the nurturing qualities of the
parents we wished we had. And we will have to undergo
the same transformation to be a healing resource for our
mate.
So when we fall in love, when bells
ring and the world seems altogether a better place, our
old brain is telling us that we've found someone with
whom we can complete our unfinished childhood business.
Unfortunately, since we don't understand what's going
on, we're shocked when the awful truth of our beloved
surfaces, and our first impulse is to run screaming in
the opposite direction.
But there's more bad news. Another
powerful component of our imago is that we also seek the
qualities missing in ourselves -- both good and bad --
that got lost in the shuffle of socialization. If we are
shy, we seek someone outgoing; if we're disorganized,
we're attracted to someone cool and rational. The anger
we repressed because it was punished in our home, and
which we unconsciously hate ourselves for feeling, we
"annex" in our partner. But eventually, when
our own repressed feelings are stirred, we are
uncomfortable, and criticize our partners for being too
bold, too coldly rational, too temperamental.
The Power Struggle
When does romantic love end and the
power struggle begin? It's impossible to define
precisely when these stages occur. But for most couples
there is a noticeable change in the relationship about
the time they make a definite commitment to each other.
Once they say," let’s get married," or
"let's get engaged," the pleasing, inviting
dance of courtship draws to a close, and lovers begin to
want not only the expectation of need fulfillment but
the reality as well. Suddenly it isn't enough that their
partners be affectionate, clever, attractive, and
fun-loving. They now have to satisfy a whole hierarchy
of expectations, some conscious, but most hidden from
their awareness.
As soon as they start living together,
most people assume their mates will conform to a very
specific but rarely expressed set of behaviors. For
example, a man may expect his new bride to do the
housework, cook the meals, shop for groceries, wash the
clothes, arrange the social events, and take on the role
of family nurse. On the other hand, her expectation may
be that he will help with the kitchen duties, share the
shopping, pay the bills, mow the lawn and sort the
laundry.
It's almost as if husbands and wives
make a commitment to each other, then take a big step
back and wait for the dividends of togetherness to start
rolling in. All of this sounds like a recipe for
disaster. But what we need to understand and accept is
that conflict is supposed to happen. It is what nature
intended; everything in nature is in conflict. The hard
truth is that the foundation for a happy and fulfilling
marriage is incompatibility. Conflict needs to be
understood as a given, a sign that the psyche is trying
to survive, to get its needs met and become whole.
We also need to understand that
divorce does not solve the problems of relationship. We
may get rid of our partners, but we keep our problems,
carrying them into the next relationship. Indeed,
divorce is incompatible with the intentions of nature.
Romantic love is supposed to end. It
serves as the glue that initially bonds two incompatible
people together so that they will do what needs to be
done to heal themselves. The good news is that although
many couples become hopelessly locked in the power
struggle, it too, is supposed to end. Real love does not
give birth to marriage; marriage is born in the glow of
romantic love, fueled by the anticipation of our needs
finally being satisfied. Real love is born in the heat
of the power struggle. It is there when illusions fade,
that we discover the real person we married. Now bonded
by nature’s trick, we are challenged to respond the
real needs of our partner, to grow beyond our
self-interest, and give the love they need. Real love,
if it exists at all, is born in marriage.
Choosing a Conscious Marriage
To make this transition from conflict
to healing requires a dramatic transition from an
unconscious marriage to a conscious marriage. To achieve
this new state of mind we must understand the goals of
the unconscious in marriage and make them the conscious
agenda in our relationship. That will challenge our old
defenses and habituated way of relating, for it is these
very defenses that wound our partner and catalyzes their
childhood situation with their parents. To break the
cycle of wounding will call forth resources we did not
know we had. For our partner needs nothing other than
that we become like the parents they needed and give the
nurturing they did not get. To surrender our defenses
feels like the loss of the self, a descent into the
valley of the shadow of death. But that descent gives
birth to new aspect of ourselves, for what our partner
needs calls us to develop traits in our personality that
atrophied in our childhood. As we love, because our old
brain cannot distinguish between itself and our partner,
it interprets the love we direct to our partner as
directed to itself. We are transformed by the love we
give. The goal of a conscious marriage is a relationship
that will activate our deepest wounds, arouse our
strongest defenses, and catalyze our maximum growth.
A conscious marriage is not for the
cowardly or timid. We must stretch to become the person
our partner needs us to be. We must put aside defensive
behaviors such as criticizing, crying, anger, or
withdrawal and learn more effective mechanisms. In Imago
Relationship Therapy, we change to give our partners
what they need, no matter how difficult it is and no
matter how much it goes against the gain of our
personality and temperament.
In order to achieve the valid and
important objectives of the old brain, we need to enlist
the aid of the new brain -- the part of us that makes
choices, exerts will, and knows that our partners are
not our parents. We need to take the rational skills
that we use in other parts of our lives and bring them
to bear on our love relationships.
Suppose your spouse suddenly
criticizes you for being late for dinner. Your old brain
instantly prompts you to fight or flee. You might
typically return your partner's critical remark with
something like "if I could depend on you to have
dinner ready at a decent hour, then I'd be here on
time!" Or you might flee from the encounter
entirely by going outside to work in the garden.
Depending on your approach, your partner will feel
either attacked or abandoned and will most likely lash
out again.
This is the kind of situation in which
the new brain could come up with a less irritating
response. What I teach the couples with whom I work is a
process called the "couples dialogue." It is a
communication process that has three phases: mirroring,
validation and empathy. Using the dialogue process, you
essentially paraphrase your partner's statement in a
neutral tone of voice, acknowledging the anger but not
rushing to your own defense. For example, you might say
something like "If I get it right, you're upset
that I'm late for dinner, is there more about
that?" Your partner might respond by saying
something like: "Yes, I am and there is more! I'm
tired of keeping dinner warm until you get home".
Then, still relying on the new-brain tact, you could
respond once again in the same nondefensive manner, but
this time validating your partner’s experience.
"Your anger makes sense, for I have been late
several times lately." Then you respond more deeply
with empathy, reflecting as deeply as possible your
partner’s feelings. "I can see that you are angry
about that and I can imagine that you might also feel
hurt and betrayed. Is that your feeling also?" With
these non-defensive responses, your partner by now will
probably be feeling less angry. If there answer is
"yes," I am feeling hurt and betrayed,"
you then can respond with "what can I do that will
help you know I care?" It is important to wait for
your partner to state what they need, what I call a
behavior change request. If you offer, "From now
on, whenever I'm running late, I'll call you or leave a
message," it may not be what your partner needs.
Now that your partner is disarmed by your empathic tone
of voice, she will probably be even calmer able to think
of an alternative solution. It should be as specific as
possible and time limited. An example might be:
"when you are going to be late, call me thirty
minutes before you planned to come home, and when you
come bring me a single yellow rose." Give her this
as a gift. In all likelihood she will want to restore
contact and say something like "thanks for not
getting upset. I had a bad day at work and I'm still a
little edgy". Because you were willing to risk a
creative response to anger, you have suddenly become a
trusted confidant rather than a sparring partner.
Once you become skilled in the couples
dialogue, you will make an important discovery: in
most interactions with your spouse, you are actually
safer when you lower your defenses than when you keep
them engaged, because your partner becomes an ally, not
an enemy. Through the integration of old-brain
instincts and new-brain savvy, as well as lots of hard
work and effort, it is possible to gradually leave the
frustrations of the power struggle behind and grow
toward a conscious partnership that is safe and
passionate.