My family, in the early 1970s, looking alarmingly functional.
If there is one thing I have learned in my 50 years on this planet it’s that relationships are complicated. And as time travels on, they become more layered and knotted up like a tangle of delicate necklaces we try desperately not to break apart as we unravel them, searching for the strands that belong to us.
I just spent the last few weeks listening to the book, SPARE, written by Prince Harry.
There were parts of this book that didn’t really hold my attention - parts about his service in the military, searching for himself in his 20s, and the constant partying. As a 50 year old American woman, I was bored… almost disappointed in some of it. But there was a piece of it that kept me coming back - the piece about family and relationships.
No doubt, Prince Harry’s life is more complex than my little old existence. But what struck me most as the common connection between us was how complicated our immediate relationships can be - royal or not. As family members, close friends, partners, we tend to put expectations on each other, often higher than any of us can meet. As incosequential as some of these expectations can be, they can have such a significant impact on us.
As I listened intently at the growing tension between Harry and William, the complexities of adding partners, children, and even partners from different backgrounds coming together, I was reminded of the dynamics in my own family. Even now - or maybe especially now that there are really only two of us left - the drift is apparent.
What Spare reflected to me is that nobody is “spared” this dynamic in life. Not even the royal family. No amount of money or bodyguards or status can spare us of the complexities of relationships…particularly those we are born into.
I always assumed my life would be pretty amazing. I came from what I thought was a fairly regular life and upbringing. (Perhaps that was my first lesson in reality checks). The delusion that my life was going to be as neat and tidy as a freshly folded basket of laundry was my first lesson in life. We all have messy parts. And the older I got, the more clear these fragmented parts have became.
The best part for me was that there was a lot of love growing up. Pure love. I have been lucky enough to know real love from most of my close relationships. But love is about a lot more than LOVE. It’s about listening, compromise, understanding, and grace. It’s a give and take. It’s being there when we don’t agree with each other and not putting a hash mark on your column because of a misstep or a difference of opinion. It’s working things out.
Mostly, love comes from our own selves. Giving YOURSELF the grace and understanding you deserve starts first with you. It starts with Kindness. Trust. Gentle care. And deep listening.
As I continue to process all of my relationships (it’s a daily task), examining them from all available sides (some that are clear and some that are a little blurry), I can tell you this: most all of us are all just trying to be the best we can for those we love most. Sometimes we need to make choices based on what we think is true and what feels right to us. And that’s okay because truly at the end of it all, you really have to rely on yourself. Bonus points though if you have a relationship or two to see you through - be it a sibling, friend, or partner.
I have a special love for my family. Anyone I am connected to by blood feels like an strong link in the chain that makes up the intricate and complicated story of my life. That’s a given. But, just as Harry had to figure his truths out, so do the rest of us. And sometimes what’s true to one person isn’t always truth for the next. That’s the tricky part.
So forge ahead. You do you. Just know that you may have to walk around shards of pointed truths, often getting hurt in the process, before finding the scraps of truth that belong to you.