Relationships shape us deeply. But not every relationship that begins with intensity, hope or chemistry is healthy. Some slowly erode our confidence, clarity and sense of self, long before we find the language to name what is happening.
I have wanted to write about relationships for a while because, if I am honest, relationships sit underneath almost everything.
We come from them. We are formed in them. We spend our lives trying to navigate them. Family, work, friendship, love, colleagues, ex-partners, children, siblings, community — it is all relational. Even the way we understand ourselves is shaped in part by what happened to us in relationship with other people.
And yet for something so central, many people still move through relationships with very little language for what is healthy, what is distorted, what is a workable difference, and what is slowly becoming psychologically harmful.
That includes highly capable men.
In fact, some of the men I have worked with have been particularly vulnerable to staying too long in relationships that were eroding them, because the very qualities that made them successful elsewhere kept them trying harder in the wrong place.
They were loyal. Thoughtful. Rational. Generous. Hopeful. Used to solving problems. Used to carrying responsibility. Used to giving people the benefit of the doubt. Used to thinking that if they just communicated better, explained more clearly, stayed calmer, loved more steadily, waited a bit longer, things would settle.
Sometimes they do.
But sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes what is happening is not a rough patch or a mismatch in communication styles. Sometimes a man is slowly being worn down by control, unpredictability, guilt, emotional manipulation, double standards, financial exploitation, chronic criticism, intermittent affection, or the creeping feeling that he has to keep adjusting himself to stop things getting worse.
This is what I mean by psychological erosion.
It does not always arrive dramatically. More often it works slowly. Through confusion. Through self-doubt. Through mixed messages. Through moments of tenderness that keep hope alive between episodes of coldness, contempt, threat or withdrawal. Through making a man question his own perceptions so often that he starts to rely more on the other person’s version of events than his own felt sense.
And because many thoughtful men do not want to see themselves as victims, they can stay in this far longer than people realise.
They explain it away.
Minimise it.
Defend the other person.
Focus on her wounds.
Keep trying.
Keep giving.
Keep hoping.
Until one day they realise they have lost money, time, confidence, peace, perhaps even friendships and reputation, trying to make sense of something that was quietly dismantling them.
This is where relationship work has to become more honest.
Not every difficult relationship is abusive. Not every distressed couple needs to part. But equally, not every relationship can be repaired through more effort from the person already doing most of the emotional labour. There are times when understanding attachment, trauma, projection, control, coercion, repetition compulsion and family patterning is essential if a person is to see clearly what they are actually inside.
That is why I often come back to baseline.
Who are you in this relationship?
What happens to your body before and after contact?
Do you feel more yourself, or less?
Are you mostly calm, or mostly confused?
Is the relationship asking you to grow, or asking you to disappear?
Are you understanding the person endlessly while abandoning your own reality?
Those are sobering questions.
But they matter.
Because relationships do not only activate love. They activate history. The old unmet need. The attachment wound. The rescuer. The people pleaser. The one who wants to be chosen. The one who mistakes intensity for intimacy. The one who confuses being needed with being loved.
And until those parts are seen, many people keep walking into familiar pain wearing a different face.
So yes, I wanted to begin this series because relationships are amazing, complex, painful, beautiful, disappointing, life-giving and at times deeply distorting. They can become the place where we flourish, or the place where we slowly disappear.
Learning the difference matters.
Two things to consider
- In your current or past relationships, have you spent more time interpreting the other person than noticing the impact on yourself?
- What is your baseline in love: calm, confusion, anxiety, over-efforting, or mutual steadiness?
Further reading
- John Bowlby — A Secure Base
- Sue Johnson — Hold Me Tight
- Lundy Bancroft — Why Does He Do That?
- Harriet Lerner — The Dance of Anger
- Esther Perel — Mating in Captivity
This essay is part of a wider body of writing that lives on Substack, where I publish my full essay series on relationships, pressure, identity, healing and change. Selected blogs and shorter pieces also appear on my website, LinkedIn and Patreon, but Substack is the main home for the writing. If you are navigating relationship confusion, burnout or a deeper turning point in life
I also offer confidential 1:1 support and a 6-week reflective course and workbook, The Empowered Self.
melgbb555@hotmail.com (new contact in subject bar)
About Melanie Gabbi
I’m Melanie Gabbi, a mental health and wellbeing consultant with more than 25 years’ experience across mental health, education, therapeutic work and complex human systems. My approach is multimodal and integrative, bringing together psychology, psychotherapy-informed practice, nervous system awareness, coaching, reflective enquiry, spirituality and lived experience.
I work with professionals, leaders, founders, creatives and thoughtful individuals navigating stress, burnout, relationships, identity shifts, emotional overload, recovery and the deeper process of change.
