BY SARA SARGENT

In print | Published April 19, 2007

When my father gives me life advice, the most common theme is independence. Doesn’t matter if the topic is boys, my future employment or choosing a mango at the grocery store, I should be an independent thinker, doer and liver. I agree and not only have I learned to prize independence as a personal ideal, but I have also learned that being independent is attractive to romantic partners. Independent women give the impression that they are busy doing worthwhile things and pursuing goals, rather than giving the impression that they are obsessive creatures who lust after men and spend their time mooning over crushes. Um, gross.

My friends’ advice, unlike my father’s, is dispensed more randomly, without an overarching principle. My favorite advice a friend recently gave me is this: When involving yourself in a romantic relationship, know exactly what you want going in and know exactly how much you’re willing to fight for it. Also good. Although, in the eyes of supporters of independence everywhere, perhaps less good than being the Superwoman of Independence.

All my dating life I have tried to strike a balance between maintaining my independence and being honest about wanting to be (at least partially) dependent on someone else. I’ll be honest; I probably have to count myself a failure in that regard: I tend to swing too much in the direction of being independent, often to the point of seeming disinterested. Such failure notwithstanding, I’ve discovered that the in/dependence balancing act applies to every phase of a relationship — whether it’s a preliminary stage and you’re deciding if you should even admit to liking someone at all, or it’s months into a relationship and you’re deciding how much of yourself to give. It’s never easy to compromise your self-image as an independent person, even if the whole point of a relationship is to be able to be dependent on someone else. Oh yes, tricky.

About six weeks ago, I read a New York Times article by Benedict Carey that touches on this conundrum. Because The Times is lovely and sweet and supportive, the article was titled “Insufferable Clinginess, or Healthy Dependence?” Carey has already made me feel like a loser and we’re only at the title; thanks, Carey, you’re a real treasure.

According to Robert Bornstein, a psychologist cited in the article, dependence in a relationship is important because two people learn to rely on each other, and what results is a symbiosis that bonds the couple together. Yet, as Bornstein goes on to acknowledge, there are complications. Every person must deal with an internal “tug-of-war between headstrong independence and needy vulnerability,” an opposition which surfaces “as early as infancy.”

I don’t doubt that healthy doses of dependence strengthen relationships. At the same time you find yourself relying on your partner, you know that your partner is relying on you. You give a little, he gives a little, and you both simultaneously feel just the slightest bit foolish and elated for having decided to depend on another human being.

But here’s the problem with that give-a-little-bit scenario: How often have you found yourself saying to your partner, “I see your two percent vulnerability and raise you three percent”? Rarely is there a guarantee or discussion about how much each of you is giving emotionally. It’s a guessing game, which is why we may err on the side of caution and stay in our enclaves of independence. Plus, my enclave of independence has a nice couch, so why would I leave?

At Swat, there is a stigma attached to those kinds of relationships wherein a couple is basically “married.” We all scoff and get up in arms when two people never leave each other’s side — i.e., two people who have chosen to be extremely dependent on one another. I think we disdain these couples because our college culture is one where students pride themselves on self-reliance. We love that image of ourselves as stubbornly independent, high-achieving people who cultivate a self-sustaining lifestyle that includes platonic relationships, but not romantic ones.

This is not a problem unique to Swat. Everywhere people have doubts and fear failure, rejection and loss of a sense of self. If we didn’t fear these things, every person on Earth would date. But we do fear them, and they succeed in keeping us avoiding relationships. Yes, it’s a leap of faith, and yes, sometimes you leap and you fall on your face and you break your nose. Well, hey, that’s just life.

After four years here, I am completely aware that my own commitment to independence has gotten me into trouble. I wish I had chosen to fight for what I wanted on a few more occasions. But again, that’s just life. You can opt to stay in your enclave and allow your headstrong independence and needy vulnerability to battle to the death, or you can commit to being healthfully dependent on someone while still striving to maintain an appropriate level of independence. Sure, that sounds like the relationship Holy Grail, but we all love a challenge here, right? It’s no harder than Micro or Orgo; and even though it’s not a requirement for grad school, it might manage to make you happy nonetheless. I’m even talking about you, proud members of the Swarthmore College Cult of Misery and Self-Imposed Loneliness. That’s right, even you guys.

Sara is a senior. You can reach her at ssargen1 [at] swarthmore [dot] edu.

« RETURN TO LIVING & ARTS

« PREV ARTICLE | NEXT ARTICLE »