Before the CC Crash of 2011(?), I had made a thread called "Practicality of Relationshsip?" where I basically asked what practicality there was in, well, relationships. At the time, I could not see any reason to think they could benefit you in any way or do more than just put another person in your life.
Between that time and today, I entered into what became a seven month relationship. It ended in August of 2011, and in some ways I am still reeling from its effects. Nonetheless, I have learned a ton in terms of how practical relationships are. In other words, what good are they? More than I realized.
First, and this should have been most obvious to me, there is the emotional support. Whenever I needed to vent (and there were certainly a couple times), my girlfriend at the time (who by the way was quite the emotionally-oriented person) was there to listen to my ramblings. And I did the same for her, although she wasn't the venting type of person. We would encourage each other when one of us was down, providing hugs and kisses as needed.
One time I was at work. I don't remember all the details but I think it was a crummy day for me and I just wanted to go home. Then I imagined her and I having an apartment together, with me being the only source of income while she was in high school. I suddenly felt motivated. In that imagined scenario she depended on me. I felt like I could go on working for hours to provide for her, even if it meant coming home ragged and tired. That's the emotional power of a relationship.
Second, it teaches you a lot about yourself. Before I went into the relationship, I was thoroughly convinced I didn't know a stinking thing about being romantic. I thought for sure that when she tried to make a romantic moment for us, I would totally miss it. As it turns out, I also have that basic intuitive knowledge! Sure my romantic skills were a bit rusty from disuse but to say I don't know how to be all sweet and affectionate would be wrong. I also learned that I enjoy cuddling, and prefer hugs over kisses any time.
I also learned that I have a phobia of commitment. Isn't marriage the end goal of dating? Marriage implies committing to somebody for the rest of your life. Which, more likely than not, is a very long time. Such things frighten me. I also learned I have trouble handling emotions, emotions of others and of my own. In addition, and I think this is largely why her and I failed as a couple, I discovered that perhaps my #1 need in a partner is someone who can meet me on an intellectual level, somebody who can engage in my trains of thought and not get lost. As a genius-level intellectual and rationalist, that makes the pool awfully small.
Third, it leads to personal growth. I have, for the most part, overcome that phobia of commitment, because I realized that the fate of a relationship is not out of my control. In fact, I am about 50% responsible for how it turns out - the other 50% belonging to my partner, of course. I also grew as somebody more selective about potential girlfriends. I already have the high standard of not dating non-Christians; now I have an additional necessary standard, that is, someone who can meet me on the intellectual level. That's the deal breaker.
Fourth, it provides a way to supplement your weaknesses. I'm strongly thought and logic oriented. My ex-girlfriend was strongly emotion and feeling oriented. I'm reserved and only speak what's needed. My ex acted as the "social lubricant," if you will. She knew what to say that would make people smile.
Fifth, if both of you are employed, it provides extra financial stability.
Now, I'd like to point out that you have to be a bit pragmatic with who you pick as a partner. After all, my past shows that an introverted genius intellectual probably won't match very well with a spur-of-the-moment feeling type. I tend to fall for the ones who are sweethearts or outgoing. I think there's something natural about that - you want a partner whose strengths are your weaknesses. But I also believe that you don't necessarily want someone who is so much your opposite that neither of you really have much in common.
Between that time and today, I entered into what became a seven month relationship. It ended in August of 2011, and in some ways I am still reeling from its effects. Nonetheless, I have learned a ton in terms of how practical relationships are. In other words, what good are they? More than I realized.
First, and this should have been most obvious to me, there is the emotional support. Whenever I needed to vent (and there were certainly a couple times), my girlfriend at the time (who by the way was quite the emotionally-oriented person) was there to listen to my ramblings. And I did the same for her, although she wasn't the venting type of person. We would encourage each other when one of us was down, providing hugs and kisses as needed.
One time I was at work. I don't remember all the details but I think it was a crummy day for me and I just wanted to go home. Then I imagined her and I having an apartment together, with me being the only source of income while she was in high school. I suddenly felt motivated. In that imagined scenario she depended on me. I felt like I could go on working for hours to provide for her, even if it meant coming home ragged and tired. That's the emotional power of a relationship.
Second, it teaches you a lot about yourself. Before I went into the relationship, I was thoroughly convinced I didn't know a stinking thing about being romantic. I thought for sure that when she tried to make a romantic moment for us, I would totally miss it. As it turns out, I also have that basic intuitive knowledge! Sure my romantic skills were a bit rusty from disuse but to say I don't know how to be all sweet and affectionate would be wrong. I also learned that I enjoy cuddling, and prefer hugs over kisses any time.
I also learned that I have a phobia of commitment. Isn't marriage the end goal of dating? Marriage implies committing to somebody for the rest of your life. Which, more likely than not, is a very long time. Such things frighten me. I also learned I have trouble handling emotions, emotions of others and of my own. In addition, and I think this is largely why her and I failed as a couple, I discovered that perhaps my #1 need in a partner is someone who can meet me on an intellectual level, somebody who can engage in my trains of thought and not get lost. As a genius-level intellectual and rationalist, that makes the pool awfully small.
Third, it leads to personal growth. I have, for the most part, overcome that phobia of commitment, because I realized that the fate of a relationship is not out of my control. In fact, I am about 50% responsible for how it turns out - the other 50% belonging to my partner, of course. I also grew as somebody more selective about potential girlfriends. I already have the high standard of not dating non-Christians; now I have an additional necessary standard, that is, someone who can meet me on the intellectual level. That's the deal breaker.
Fourth, it provides a way to supplement your weaknesses. I'm strongly thought and logic oriented. My ex-girlfriend was strongly emotion and feeling oriented. I'm reserved and only speak what's needed. My ex acted as the "social lubricant," if you will. She knew what to say that would make people smile.
Fifth, if both of you are employed, it provides extra financial stability.
Now, I'd like to point out that you have to be a bit pragmatic with who you pick as a partner. After all, my past shows that an introverted genius intellectual probably won't match very well with a spur-of-the-moment feeling type. I tend to fall for the ones who are sweethearts or outgoing. I think there's something natural about that - you want a partner whose strengths are your weaknesses. But I also believe that you don't necessarily want someone who is so much your opposite that neither of you really have much in common.
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