The Two Things We All Need In Relationships
“It just feels like you can’t be alone! Like you always need me to be doing something with you, or you just freak out. I can never have just a minute of space to myself to even think.”
“But it doesn’t matter how much ‘space’ I give you or whether I ask you to do things when you say it’s better for you - you just never want to spend time with me! You’d rather just watch TV or stare at your phone.”
I jump in to pause the back-and-forth between this (hypothetical) couple who has come to see me to address the ongoing conflict around spending time together.
I ask each of them to check in about what is actually going on inside of them as this conversation unfolds.
One person recognizes that they are feeling constantly chased by the other - that there is no space for them to even feel their own desire to spend time together. They are tired of feeling like they need to always be “on” and ready to connect when maybe that’s not where they are at.
The other person touches in with the pain of rejection they continue experiencing every time their attempt at connection is turned down - even when they try to reach out less often or to do so in the way that their partner has asked. Plus the pain that comes up in the absence of being pursued themselves.
What are we actually fighting about?
While this isn’t about any one particular couple, it illustrates a very common dynamic.
It is the dynamic of each person having unmet relational needs, whether for connection or autonomy. And then getting locked in the push and pull where each person feels like they have to give up one in order to have the other.
The person who wants more autonomy and space around spending time together feels like they are then creating disconnection with their partner if they ask for what they are needing.
The person who is reaching for more quality time feels like they have to abandon that need for connection in order to honor the other person’s autonomy.
And the reason why it gets so stuck for both people is because it feels like that’s the truth - that it’s either one or the other.
And it feels personal.
The Core Relational Needs: Autonomy and Connection
The two primary needs in any relationship are autonomy and connection.
Autonomy is about our own unique, individual expression of who we are. It is about our separateness. That might include our need for space, for independent hobbies or interests, and opinions and beliefs that are different from our partner’s.
Connection is about coming together, maybe sharing physical space or activities together or bonding over our shared values and perspectives. Connection also includes being able and willing to do things in ways that might not be our personal preference, but that work for the other person.
I choose to use “autonomy” rather than “authenticity” here because our need for connection is just as authentic as our need to be respected and understood in our uniqueness. It is just as authentic to put our own needs aside for a moment in order to be a support for someone as it is for us to assert them.
By the same token, it is just as inauthentic for someone to deny their need or ability to connect as it is for someone to deny that they have a need for space or for their difference.
The challenge is when it feels like these two very authentic needs are mutually exclusive, either within ourselves or within our relationships.
If there’s anything that might be inauthentic regarding our relationship to these needs, it’s when we feel that we fundamentally have to choose between the two. But even that is an authentic response to the reality of that, at some point, we did have to make that choice.
Having to Choose: Connection versus Autonomy
Most of us grew up in environments where either connection or autonomy was valued more than the other. Some of us were given praise for our independence (or that was simply what was expected of us). Others were valued for how mature we were in our ability to be understanding and accommodating of our siblings or adults in our lives (or, again, there was no choice and it’s just what we had to do to survive).
On top of that are the wider cultures we have lived in. There are cultures that tend to value autonomy and individuality more highly than connection and community, and vice versa.
And it isn’t just how we grew up. Sometimes our experiences in relationships as adults, whether with a partner, family members, or at work, can impact our relationship to autonomy and connection as we continue to develop throughout our whole lives.
This can all get even more complicated when we get mixed signals. Maybe we have one parent who values connection and another that values autonomy. Maybe our family values autonomy but our culture values connection. Maybe we grew up in a place where our family and culture valued connection, but then we move abroad or end up marrying someone whose culture or family values autonomy.
For many of us, the pressure to be more autonomous or more connected hasn’t been so extreme and there is flexibility around how we show up. But for others, our sense of belonging, value, or worth depended on whether or not we met others’ expectations regarding these needs. We repeatedly had to make the impossible choice between our need for autonomy and our need for connection, impacting how we act and what we look for in our current relationships.
We learned that our needs for autonomy and connection are mutually exclusive - and that at the end of the day, we will always have to make a choice between one or the other.
(And How That Plays Out)
Our environment, whether in childhood or as an adult, does not determine what we come to value in our relationships now. But what we experienced and learned in that environment does frame the experience of our current relationships - because the past is often what we are reacting or responding to in the present.
Given that, the most important question to ask is: What is my relationship now to what I have experienced or learned about autonomy and connection?
Some of us absorbed the values of the environments we have been in (whether of our family, country, ethnicity, job, etc.), while others outright rejected them. Others of us are more like chameleons, choosing to prioritize connection in some situations and autonomy in others.
For example, that might look like someone who has very different views from their family either:
hiding their thoughts and opinions until they become an adult and then being very publicly outspoken, knowing that it means that their family will no longer accept them;
continuing to keep their own individual perspectives hidden from others, choosing to keep the peace (and therefore the connection) with their family; or
mixing the two strategies - being outspoken in certain environments while continuing to keep quiet when family is around.
With that in mind, let’s take a deeper look at our hypothetical couple to understand how the past can color our relationship to autonomy and connection in the present:
Perhaps the partner who wants more space grew up in an environment where one of their parents needed constant assurance that they were doing a good job. And one of the ways that the parent would try to get that assurance was by sulking when the child didn’t want to sit next to them at dinner or when the child didn’t want to play a game that the parent suggested. That child then learned that in order for there to be a positive connection with the parent, they had to put aside what they wanted and do what the parent wanted. The story might become: I’m not lovable when I want something different than what someone else wants. And now, in their current relationship, that person experiences their partner asking to spend time together as being in that same position - where they won’t get connection unless they give up their autonomy - and they refuse to do that now.
For the other partner who wants more connection, perhaps their parent rarely initiated connection with them. As a child, they ate dinner alone, got the ready for the day and did their homework without guidance or support. When the child reached out for help or wanted to play, the parent expressed irritation or annoyance with being needed. They learned that unless they reached out for connection themselves (and even if they did), their parent wasn’t interested in connecting with them. The story might become: I’m not inherently deserving of others’ love, attention, or care. So now, they fear that if they give their partner too much space, there won’t be any kind of connection at all. It feels like all of the responsibility for connection falls on them - and they refuse to let go of that need.
When our current relationship dynamics are close enough to our past experiences, they activate the same painful stories. And that’s what makes the interaction now seem so personal. It’s no longer about each person having valid, though maybe clashing, needs. It becomes about whether or not each of us is lovable or deserving of love.
But what if we didn’t have to choose?
This dynamic is usually so painful because something in us knows that it doesn’t have to be this way - that our needs for autonomy and connection are not inherently mutually exclusive.
Ultimately, the dream is that we get connection because of who we are when we are expressing and living in our autonomy. And we’re free to move between connection and autonomy fluidly as our priorities shift, whether in a day, week, or lifetime.
Those who (on the average) had that experience in their childhood - who experienced connection in a way that honored who they uniquely were and didn’t experience autonomy and connection as mutually exclusive - have lived the truth of that. Here are some examples of what that might look like:
When the child wanted space, the parent didn’t take it as a comment on whether or not the child loves them and (to the extent that it was safe or possible) was able to honor what the child wanted.
When the child reached out for support or connection, the parent didn’t react as if the request was a burden. Perhaps the parent was able to put aside what they were doing for a moment and offer that to the child. If not, the parent might have let the child know when they would have space and time to connect later.
If the child’s need for connection or space couldn’t be met, then there was recognition of what the child wanted in that moment and an understanding of the child’s hurt or frustration around not being able to have it. The parent would still hold the boundary, but in a way that didn’t make the child’s desire something bad or wrong.
This isn’t about anyone getting all of what they want all the time. Far from it. It’s about giving children an experience of knowing that connection and care are always there, even as the child expresses their own autonomous wants and needs. And that their autonomy is always acknowledged, even as it might be necessary to put aside their specific autonomous wants and needs in a given moment.
When this is the overall experience, the child learns a very different story that they then carry into their adult relationships: Sometimes I get my needs for connection and autonomy met how I want, and sometimes I don’t. But when I don’t, it’s not because I am bad, wrong, or a problem for having them. And I get to have both. I don’t have to choose.
Moving Forward: Connection and Autonomy
Whether you come more from team connection, team autonomy, or team chameleon - the path forward is the same.
I do not advocate for some “meet in the middle” kind of compromise here, where each person gets 50% of their autonomy needs met or 50% of their connection needs met. That is never a lasting solution, and it’s actually impossible.
What does work is exploring each person’s relationship to their own needs for autonomy and connection as well as their relationship to their partner’s. Because within the context of an otherwise loving relationship, building this understanding has a way of naturally unfolding into creative solutions that leave both people feeling that all of their needs are understood, respected, and tended to.
Some questions you can ask to start heading in that direction include:
In this particular relationship and about this particular topic, when I’m forced to choose, which do I lean towards? Is it more autonomy or connection?
What do I do in order to try to get my partner to meet that autonomy or connection need?
When my partner doesn’t meet me in the way I’m looking for, what is the story I tell myself about myself or our relationship?
For those of you who are familiar with the Intimacy from the Inside Out (IFIO) couples therapy approach, you will likely recognize these questions. Because these are the exact kind of questions we ask in session when we are exploring these relationship tensions in couples therapy or coaching.
When you truly understand the answers to these questions, both for yourself and your partner, you can then start to challenge the old stories and tend to the underlying wounds. Ultimately, that healing work creates the space for both of you to write a different story about yourselves and your relationship. One where you don’t have to choose between yourself and the relationship.
A story that has space for both of you to experience connection because of who you each uniquely are.
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