Shoes and compromise

I was talking to a client recently and he was grappling with an issue that many of us also face in our own relationships. How far do we compromise for the sake of the other person? Here is a frivolous example from my own life. I've been in a relationship for six months now. My partner and I have checked in regularly, like proper grown-ups, as we are both now in our 50s, and reviewed how things are going. We agree that things are going pretty well and we are happy and we're choosing each other.

So here's the thing. We're sharing a space, and although it's my space in the sense that I own it, we live as equal partners and share expenses. I like shoes to be outside. He doesn't care. He comes from a western culture where it's very common for outdoor shoes to be worn inside. Whilst I also come from a similar background, time I've spent living in other countries and attending lots of spiritual events and temples, means I'm now fully committed to the no shoes-in-the-house rule. So who gets to win? Of course, I can pull rank, and say it's ‘my home’ and I was living here first so we're going to do things my way. And in fact, I have, and bless his heart, he is now trying to learn to take his shoes off. But at what point does a compromise become changing our personality? If it hurt his heart and soul to take off his shoes in the house, should he still do it for me?

The client I mentioned earlier is exploring the landscape of his ‘core being’. What is his authentic self?

I invite you to try this little exercise, if you like:

Imagine compromising for another, or a recent instance when you did this,
Now imagine a scale of 1 to 10 on the floor. 1 is completely authentic. 10 is going against your true self.
Hold your hand on our stomach, or your heart.
Now feel into the compromise and start to takes steps along the scale.
At what point does something feel, in your body, like an ‘oh this is no longer true to me?’
What does it feel like to take another step, or in fact, to go back one?
Do you learn anything about your own ‘state of compromise’?

How far do we go to compromise with others?
*Photo: Stuart Yeates*

The conclusion my client and I came to was: if adapting to fit our partner is simply kindness, and a recognition of something important to them, like my boyfriend and the shoes, then that's sensitive and loving. But what if wearing shoes in the house is a fundamental need? What if it disturbs his sense of balance (no pun intended) and he feels at odds and awkward and yet he does it to please me?

If I'm adapting to fit my partner and deep in my heart, I know it really is not me and I'm playing a role, then maybe that's a step too far (pun intended). Maybe at this point, I need to stand my ground, and say I'm sorry, this is not me.

Extended shoe metaphors notwithstanding, some of the compromises required in our personal and professional relationships are subtle, unseen, trigger all sorts of childhood negative memories, and often we don't know how to even talk about them, let alone ask for another to adapt. This is not easy work, but sometimes the people that we are closest to act as a handy mirror, reflecting back our messy depths, our unresolved knots, where we ask for too much. If and when they refuse to compromise beyond their comfort zone, they can help us to do the same.

I invite you, in your own relationships, to explore how much you compromise, what boundaries you've set, and how often you cross them or allow them to be crossed. And what do you do, if anything, when a compromise feels inauthentic and not true to you?

Temperance