One of the aspects of psychology I love most is that there are endless layers to explore about every topic. Because psychology is a relatively new field, there’s still a lot we don’t know. And because the mind and soul are as vast as the universe, there will always be an element of mystery. That’s what makes it exciting.
So as I round into my 30th year of exploring relationship anxiety, just when I think there’s nothing more to say, a new layer pops into my field of awareness. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that it’s not so much a new insight as it is a deepening of areas we’ve been discussing for years. The question that has arrived over the last several weeks is:
What is the link between idealism and relationship anxiety?
As I’ve shared in many blog posts, those prone to anxiety are often perfectionists: we place inordinately high standards on ourselves, and when it comes to relationships we tend to place those standards on our partner. But the new layer is that, in addition to being perfectionists, we’re also idealists, meaning we have an ideal picture in our mind of how life and love should be. Where perfectionists strive for flawlessness, idealists emphasize aspirations and principles. I love the way Martyn Foster differentiates between these two similar but different concepts:
If the idea of getting 99/100 irks you more than pleases you, you are a perfectionist. If you are a person who pursues and values noble/high principles, purposes and goals, a person who is more concerned with how things ought to be than how they are, you are an idealist. Perfectionism and idealism are regularly associated with one another, but I view it as, “not everything that is perfect is ideal, but everything that is ideal has elements of perfection.”
If you’re someone who struggles with relationship anxiety, being an idealist might translate in a healthy way as wanting the best relationship you can have. But even in the best of relationships, there will be flaws and elements that are missing. There will be elements of perfection, which will satisfy the idealist in you, but overall the relationship will fall short of the ideal image you may have carried in your mind since you were a teenager.
A blog reader named Katy expressed her exploration of idealism beautifully in one of her comments:
This post is also incredibly timely for me. I’ve been in therapy with a good therapist for several years, and one of the things we talk about a lot is my “idealism” – my strong sense in almost every situation I am in of “how things should be” – a feeling that things should be different, better, more perfect than they are. This feeling is unrelenting.
I am a big fan of Tara Brach’s work, and was recently listening to one of her podcasts, and she talked about deciding many years ago to work on her struggle with “chronic aversive judgment,” this running commentary in her brain that “he should be different, this should be different, I should be different.” Which is also a running commentary I have in my brain, and it robs me, often, of enjoying what is because I am so focused on my idea of how things should be.
I have been working on this, especially using your work, Sheryl – it has been so helpful to note that when I am fixating on some “imperfection” in my environment – some less than perfect moment – to turn toward myself and ask myself what within me needs care and attention.
And there is always something in me that I can find – usually having to do with fear of uncertainty and fear of the unknown. When I was a child, the unknown was pretty dangerous, so now when I am not sure of something, or something feels imperfect, it still feels dangerous and like I need to nail everything down.
I am making this post because I have been exploring my idealism – a kind of “just right” feeling/anxiety that causes me to have a really hard time tolerating imperfect moments, and what it takes away from me. But, I was missing the idea of its possible root cause, where it comes from, and how it actually could come from a place of goodness, from some deep place in me where I was built to steward things toward beauty, If I can.
But not do it in this maniacal, demanding way that does not also allow me to accept humanness, messiness, and imperfection. To look for ways I can include ritual in my life that does create beauty and goodness, creativity, while also learning to live in the imperfect real world and allow things, simultaneously, to be as they are. Such a difficult dialectic!
Why the Ideal Must Wither in Romantic Love
In many areas of life, the ideal is worth striving for. Most people who find their way to my work dream of a more just and caring world, and often dedicate their life to bringing about that vision. As such, highly sensitive people often become teachers, lawyers, nurses, and therapists. We not only see the brokenness, but we feel it in our hearts. We know we can do better and we strive for that better, ideal world.
But when it comes to romantic love, the ideal vision, which often manifests as a “type”, must be grieved and released if a long-term, healthy relationship is going to sustain and thrive. Why? Because in this realm of life the ideal only exists in the imagination (and Hollywood).
As I shared in this post on The Truth about Attraction in a Misguided Culture, the ideal type is often a projection of our own inner underdeveloped parts, and when we project those parts onto another we lose the opportunity to grow into our own wholeness. If we don’t understand this aspect of relationship anxiety, we’re at risk of walking away from real, true, good love if it doesn’t match the ideal vision we’ve held in our mind.
Some of these idealistic pictures of romantic love come from mainstream messages, but I don’t think that’s the whole picture. Another commonality between those who find their way to my work is that many of us are either a one or four on the Enneagram. The one is often referred to as “The Idealist” and the four as “The Tragic Romantic”. Both types have a tendency to look for what’s missing instead of what’s present, partially because of their desire for life to be as ideal as possible. To this end, the search for an ideal work and ideal love is wired in to temperament.
The Longing for Wholeness
At the core of idealism is a longing for wholeness, whether in the world, in a family, or in our own selves. Because we’ve been indoctrinated by our misguided culture to believe we can attain wholeness through finding the perfect partner – literally our “other half” – we believe that we should keep looking until we find this perfect other, failing to realize that the idealism we’re seeking doesn’t actually exist in a world that includes brokenness at the core. This doesn’t mean we should stop trying to repair the world and heal ourselves, but the wholeness will not come about by finding your ideal partner. Because, again, that person simply does not exist.
Rather, we touch into wholeness when we grieve the fantasy of the ideal and step into full responsibility for our own spiritual journey, which includes the possibility of touching into the realm where everything is connected and nothing is broken. This is probably as close to the ideal as we can come in the human realm. As Katy expressed in her comment, “I was missing the idea of its possible root cause, where it comes from, and how it actually could come from a place of goodness, from some deep place in me where I was built to steward things toward beauty, If I can.”
Let us be stewards of beauty in all ways as we release our partners from carrying the burden of idealism and instead strive to create a more just and beautiful world.
How does idealism play into your journey with relationship anxiety?
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