The art of Discernment in your Relationships

James has isolated himself. He’s hiding behind the walls, confided in his own home, because it’s all become too much for him. Work, responsibilities, people’s demands, the non-stop messages. He’s literally ignoring texts and stonewalling his girlfriend. Not because he intentionally wants to hurt her, but because he doesn’t know else how to make space for himself.

Jerry is all by himself. In his own condo, fully enjoying the nothingness and not needing to answer to anybody else. He sometimes likes to retreat into his own home. To recharge. Like a hermit, answering to nothing and nobody. Before he retreated, he talked to his girlfriend and asked her: “Honey, I need some time alone. We’re good, there’s no need to worry. I’d love to have the weekend off, in silence, and I’ll contact you on Monday first thing. How would that be for you?”

(Feel free to change the names or genders in your mind if you please).

Both are alone. Isolated in their man cave. Probably doing some funky stuff they only do when they’re on their own. In essence it looks the same. But the origin is entirely different and the way they handle it, is too. James is acting from a place of pain and coping (avoidance), Jerry is acting from a place of maturity (advocating for what he wants and needs).

Discernment: from which place are you acting?

I could give you tons of examples, but the essence of this message is: can you discern whether your own internal experiences come from a place of hurt or wholeness?

I remember the many times in previous relationships when I justified my longing for being sexually free by stating that nobody has the right to decide anything about my body but me. Technically I was right – of course I had and still have bodily autonomy. And apart from one secret affair in the distant past, I have always made clear agreements with my partners about our non-monogamous relating.

However, I couldn’t see yet that this longing came from a deep desire to be seen and validated, which I got through sex back then. Moreover, I was actually too afraid to really be seen and validated, so I avoided true intimacy and was very afraid to commit to one person. Ever since I was in my early twenties, I would advocate for non-monogamy in relationships.

Just to be clear: in essence, non-monogamy is an equally valid relationship structure as monogamy. Both are simply a choice you make. None is essentially better or more moral than the other. It’s the same with your living situation (cohabitating or not), having kids or not, staying or going in a relationship. The main question is always: from which place are you advocating your choice? Is your choice driven by fear or love?

For me, I was actually coming from a place of hurt. I avoided true closeness, because I had no idea how to handle that. I never ever wanted to feel dominated again after 5 years in a strict cult and a fairly over-protective mother, so I fought for my freedom in any way I could. I told myself I was free, but my choice was a reaction to pain. How not free...

Only until I truly looked at my old pains and patterns and habits and justifications, could I free myself of the reaction to it. And make a choice that was true for me. Now, I choose monogamy, and my partner and I are very open to talking about potential non-monogamous experiences, íf it truly aligns, but never to fill up a void.

We both have learned the art of discernment.

What's needed to Discern better?

For that, you need to be willing to take a close look at yourself. Identify your patterns and acknowledge when your intention is not essentially pure.

Not so pure intentions don’t make you a bad person, by the way ;-). We are all human, and in our human experience we may encounter that sometimes our ego gets in the way. We may get clouded.

Which is why we do the work.
We look deeper.
Into the mirror, and oh how painful that can be.
We track ourselves: what is secretly hiding underneath this yearning? Can we own that?
We learn to be honest when some of the things we say are actually distorted truths that justify our behavior.
We learn to love ourselves with those distortions, because only then can we shift it.
We learn to listen to Wholeness instead. That pure voice that speaks truth.

Can you imagine what your relationships would be like of you’d practice more discernment in your life? If you’d truly recognize why you’re doing what you’re doing and then choose realness?

How you’d be more open and honest about your intentions, even if or when there’s an element of selfishness / ego there? (Because we don't have to be saints...)

“I’d love to give you a massage tonight, but I gotta be honest: It’s not selfless. I’m actually hoping to get more out of it ;-).”

“Babe, I really don’t want to go to your parents this weekend. I have no good reason for it, so I won’t bullshit you with a list of why’s. I know it’s important to you, and yet this time I really want to ask you to go alone.”

“I’ve noticed I’ve been giving you a whole lot of compliments lately. But I gotta be honest… I actually wanted to receive your appreciation of me instead. I’m sorry I manipulated you into this, it didn’t really work anyway. So let me be real now: could you remind me of all the things you love about me, pretty pleaaaase with sugar on top?”

“I’ve been projecting everything that I believe is wrong in our relationship onto you. I felt entitled to get mad at you. I felt justified in my reaction, because that’s how I felt safe again. I am so sorry. I wasn’t coming from a place of connection; it was my own pain. Could you forgive me?”

When we practice discernment and we identify the different parts at play within us – the many coping mechanisms that speak from a voice of Hurt versus our mature, integrated, wise Self that speaks from a voice of Wholeness – our relationships become real. Honest. Open. Not perfect, yet imperfectly beautiful.

Hope this inspired you today.