Intimacy & Desire: Awaken the Passion in Your Relationship (9 page)

Love relationships have people-growing processes that call for the best in you to come forward to endure and cope with them. Doing that makes us creative and resilient.

I
n
Chapter 1
we began to explore what happens to the low desire partner when there are sexual desire problems. We saw through Connie that your reflected sense of self really takes a beating. But what if you’re the high desire partner? In
Chapter 2
we started to see in Doreen that your reflected sense of self also gets bruised, because you take your mate’s lower desire personally, too. Some HDPs don’t feel rejected, inadequate, or undesirable, but they are the exception. Lots of them
say
they don’t take it as a negative reflection on themselves, but a good percentage of them march around the house shouting, “It’s not me who is the problem, it’s
you
!”

Like many LDPs, Sally frequently heard these kinds of comments. Her partner Robert, the HDP, often felt compelled to share his feelings,
specifically that she was hung up about sex. When Sally and Robert first came to see me, Robert said he felt good about himself and deserved more than what he was getting in his marriage. If I hadn’t listened carefully, what he was saying would have made perfect sense. As I learned more, however, I saw a different picture: Sally, the LDP, indeed controlled when sex occurred. But how and why Robert pictured this control happening said a lot about him and his sense of self.

Robert blamed Sally and made her feel defective because his own reflected sense of self was crumbling. Robert took Sally’s lack of desire as a criticism of his desirability and adequacy as a lover. Sally controlled Robert’s self-worth simply by choosing when to have sex or not. Robert’s reflected sense of self hinged on having sex. She controlled Robert’s adequacy whether she liked it or not.

Sally intuitively knew this. She knew how Robert’s mind worked. Robert made himself less sexually appealing by acting like he didn’t take it personally. Sally knew Robert’s self-image relied on her responding
enthusiastically
the moment he made an overture. The pressure made her even less desirous.

Last chapter we saw how your sense of self is woven into your sexual desire, and previously we learned that the LDP always controls sex. What happens when this combines with the fact that most of us depend on a positive reflected sense of self,
especially
when it comes to sex? Sally and Robert illustrate what this looks like in daily life: In addition to controlling sex,
the LDP controls the HDP’s sense of adequacy, too
.

This starts long before any hint of sexual problems. This is how things are in love relationships from the outset. (Women, in particular, are taught to be acutely aware of protecting their partner’s “sexual ego.”) When desire problems or sexual dysfunctions show up,
the LDP controls the HDP’s adequacy whether she likes it (or knows it) or not
. When the HDP takes steps to bolster his sagging self-worth, it usually further affects the LDP’s already-diminished sense of self. And thus, the age-old cycle of sexual desire and human development begins anew.

Like many couples, Robert and Sally had problems from the start. The second time they had sex, Robert asked if she had problems having orgasms. Sally said she didn’t think so. It just took her longer with a new partner to really relax and get into it. Robert said this was fine with him, but Sally felt he wasn’t being honest. Thereafter, Sally made more signs of pleasure—even when she wasn’t feeling it—because Robert seemed to need this. He certainly seemed happier when she moaned and groaned. Sally also did this because she felt unsure of herself, and she wanted Robert to like her.

What I’m describing is normal stuff. It transcends gender, sexual orientation, and culture. I’ve worked with other couples like Sally and Robert except their genders are reversed. Gay and lesbian couples do this too. We all want other people to like, accept, and admire us. But like many people, Robert
depended
on Sally (and other people) to help him feel good about himself.
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He didn’t have much solid self, but instead relied on his reflected sense of self. Although he never saw it, Robert wanted Sally to accommodate and defer to him. This made him feel important, loved, respected, and cherished.

Sally did this early on in their marriage. She felt it her responsibility to make Robert happy. His unhappiness meant she was failing as a wife. Satisfying Robert propped up Sally’s own reflected sense of self—for a while. This was her response whenever important people in her life got nervous or unhappy.

Now, after twenty years of marriage, Sally refused to do this anymore. It wasn’t just stubbornness. It was beyond feeling frustrated that she never made Robert happy for long. Years of
success
in accommodating Robert and supporting his reflected sense of self finally caught up with her.

The more Sally supported Robert’s needy reflected sense of self, the more he came to expect it, and the more loudly he complained when he didn’t get it. The more Sally had sex and feigned enthusiasm, the less she wanted to do it. As Robert increasingly expected it and demanded it, her desire waned further. Robert’s attitude impinged on her sense of autonomy and triggered the human impulse to tell one’s partner, “Enough is enough.”

It didn’t surprise me that Sally and Robert had sexual desire problems. They were gridlocked over sex and they didn’t like each other very much. In bed, their sexual encounters often collapsed in the opening moments.

Their initial visit with me wasn’t much different. Robert complained that Sally didn’t want sex very often, and she didn’t take his needs into consideration. Sally got defensive and reeled off a long list of things she did for him, sex being one of them. Sally acknowledged she often didn’t have desire, but for years she went along and did it anyway.

Robert countered that this was the problem: Sally always seemed to be doing him a favor. She never wanted sex for herself. According to Robert, Sally had some kind of problem because she never seemed interested in sex like normal people. He alternately criticized her for years of just going through the motions, and then for not being willing to continue doing that. I could see that Robert’s emotional whiplash of Sally was completely beyond his awareness.

Robert pretty much did the same thing at home: He initiated sex several times a week and blew up if Sally wasn’t perky and raring to go. Then he sulked for days, breaking his deafening silences with curt responses that were punitive and withholding. Robert wanted her to know he was unhappy. If Sally didn’t pay enough attention to his obvious displeasure, his litany would start: “It’s not me, it’s
you
who has a problem!”

For years, Sally apologized to Robert and said she was sorry. Robert usually accepted Sally’s apology if it was followed by sex. All was forgiven—until next time. But if Robert was really hurt and angry, they went through a second level: When Sally apologized, Robert responded with, “You don’t mean it.” Sally was supposed to cajole him into believing she cared. She was also expected to be particularly enthusiastic in the sex that inevitably followed. This was how Sally propped up Robert’s reflected sense of self—and sex wasn’t the only way they played this out.

Sally “slid underneath” Robert, gave in to him, about disciplining their teenage son Jason. Robert was generally punitive with the boy. He demanded unquestioned obedience and deference from Jason, even more
than he did from Sally. Robert’s reflected sense of self was piqued if Jason hesitated to follow his dictates. Day by day Robert squeezed the life out of Jason.

Sally knew this wasn’t right. But saying anything to Robert about it invariably triggered accusations of betrayal and undermining. As far as he was concerned, she was presenting a divided front to Jason, or aligning with Jason against him. So Sally usually kept silent. Until recently, Sally’s reflected sense of self prevailed whenever Robert was angry. Sally felt calmer, and things felt more stable if she gave in to whatever Robert wanted.

Robert and Sally illustrate what I call
borrowed functioning
. Borrowed functioning is a way people cope with the fact that our first self is a reflected sense of self. We depend on a reflected sense of self because of how human beings develop. From infancy, our mind looks to other minds for help supporting our own self-awareness. You see yourself through the eyes of people important to you. You internalize how others see you and treat you as indications of who you are.

Our first realization of being a “self” elicits anger and frustration rather than joy and relief. It starts the moment you realize you and Mommy are not a single entity. Suddenly, there is “I” and “Thou.” (According to theologian Martin Buber, this relationship is initially “I” and “It.”
⁵⁸
) Your initial experience of selfhood comes when your parent or care-giver
isn’t
doing what you want. When you’re feeling comfortable and nurtured, you’re not aware there are two of you. I’m not describing life’s initial “trauma.” It’s just the nature of things to come.

Borrowed functioning is “borrowed” because it doesn’t give you a solid sense of self or the ability to function in lasting ways. It’s like your self is a balloon your partner inflates. While you’re inflated, things seem better. You may look better, feel better, and even act better briefly, but these transfusions of “pseudo-self” don’t hold up. Even if your partner doesn’t deflate you, you “leak” enough to require further inflation before long.

Borrowed functioning is also “borrowed” in the sense that it
diminishes
the donor’s (your partner’s) functioning, resilience, and reflected sense of self. This may not show at first, because even though it’s illusory, borrowed functioning can enhance both people’s functioning. But inevitably, as the LDP eventually descends into insecurity (and smoldering defiance), the HDP, having borrowed functioning, magnificently ascends on the wings of self-righteousness. In relationships where partners truly help each other, the hallmark of a healthy love is that a couple’s functioning improves together over time. The difference between real love and caring, and what Robert and Sally were doing, is that Sally was being emotionally depleted and Robert was only artificially holding himself up.

Just because Robert and Sally engaged in borrowed functioning doesn’t mean they didn’t have a real relationship. Borrowed functioning
is
a relationship—it is
most
relationships. Whenever partners depend on each other for a positive reflected sense of self, they have an
emotional fusion
. (True interdependence requires a solid sense of self.) An emotional fusion means people are regulating their emotions (and reflected sense of self) through their interactions with their partner, rather than handling them internally, with a solid sense of self, on their own. The partner borrowing the function can change depending on the circumstances. But borrowed functioning can’t occur without a real relationship, because there’s no way for the borrowing to take place. Borrowed functioning and emotional fusion are powerful forms of relatedness, arguably the most common type. But as normal as this is, you need to grow beyond this.

Robert felt better when Sally humbled herself and apologized, even if she had done nothing wrong. Robert was less belligerent and dogmatic when his son deferred to his authority. When everything went his way, Robert felt life was as it should be. He couldn’t see why Sally seemed so unhappy. They lived a good life. Robert figured it must be something in her past. But things between Sally and Robert weren’t happening simply because of their childhoods. They were in the groove of a love relationship, laid down millions of years ago when the human self emerged.

Normal people depend on others for their sense of identity, self-worth, and security. We do so because we are generally at a common modest level of personal development. A reflected self is the first self we have. Many people never develop much of a solid self and engage in borrowed functioning all their lives.

Most of us take our partner’s desire personally, be it high or low. We depend on a positive reflected sense of self from others about highly sensitive issues like sex. We feel attractive when others find us attractive. We feel desirable and desirous because someone desires us. When you’re getting the positive reflected sense of self you need, you’re unaware of the process. As far as you’re concerned, everything’s going fine. You’re in love. When people speak of rekindling romance in their marriage, what they really want is the euphoria of borrowed functioning and a positive reflected sense of self.
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