𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

We are sold a story of perfect connections. The soulmate who anticipates our every need. The parent whose love is an unwavering sun. The friend whose loyalty never buckles. We are told to hold out for this, to settle for nothing less than the sublime. It is a beautiful story. And for most of us, it is a fiction that leaves us lonely.

The truth is, the architecture of most human connections is built with cracks. Cracks are a feature, not a bug and like the Cohen song says, '𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏.' It is in the marriage that has settled into a quiet companionship, where the fiery passion has banked to embers, but the warmth remains. It is in the sibling whose politics you abhor, but whose childhood memories are woven into your very bones. It is in the parent who tries, fumblingly, with the limited tools they were given, to love you and sometimes fails. It is in the friend who is never the first to call, but is the first to arrive when your world truly falls apart.

To dismiss these as "suboptimal" is to view a forest and see only the trees that are not perfectly formed. It is to miss the ecosystem altogether. We are so busy searching for the flawless specimen that we choose to stand in an empty field, believing it is better than an imperfect shelter.

This does not mean we tolerate the poisonous, the abusive, the truly draining relationships. There is a vast and crucial difference between a relationship that is imperfect and one that is harmful. The former asks for grace; the latter demands a boundary.

But so much of life is lived in the gentle, forgiving middle. It is in the friend who tells a story you’ve heard a dozen times, but you listen because your history is a shared text. It is in the adult child who calls out of duty more than desire, but calls nonetheless. It is in the partner who leaves crumbs on the counter but also holds your hand at the funeral.

If we demand only the peak, we will miss the sustenance of the plateau. The goal is not to find the perfect relationship. It is to find the beautiful, messy, good-enough ones, and to invest them with meaning. It is important to understand that a relationship can be a source of comfort without being your everything. It can be a place of partial understanding, and that partial understanding can still be a sanctuary.

Loneliness is not always the absence of people. It is often the absence of acceptance for the flawed, human, and ultimately redeemable connections that are already here, waiting for us to stop comparing them to a fantasy and to start appreciating them for what they are: perfectly good shelter in the long, unpredictable weather of a life.

A heart that can embrace the suboptimal relationships will never truly be alone.