In this week’s topic, we wanted to share our stories about romantic love and how it relates to our own mental health. On the surface, romantic love seems very different from mental illness. What, if anything, do depression, anxiety, and low self esteem have to do with love? However, I’ve noticed that in my own experiences they can be inextricably linked to each other.

Growing up in today’s society, we are often inundated with the message that we need to find the “one,” our “true love,” our “special someone,” in order to complete us. We seek out someone else in order to fill the voids that we have within ourselves and within our own lives. When I was younger,  although I was never a huge believer in romance, I still internalized that message. In high school, I was a very high achieving, straight-A type of person, who never took a day off from work or from trying to get ahead. Instead of trying to achieve balance in my own life, I sought out romantic partners who I perceived as being very chill, rebellious, and a little spontaneous: ie. the typical “slacker boy.” Those qualities don’t always make someone a good romantic partner, as I learned from my various failed early crushes or early relationships.

However, as I grew older, I also began to rely on sexual and / or romantic partners to fill the voids I had within myself. During my junior year of college, I was very depressed, anxious, and unable to sleep over two months during my fall semester. It was the lowest period of my life. During this time, I initiated a physical relationship with one of my best friends at the time. We didn’t treat each other with respect and the relationship ended poorly. I was using the relationship as a crutch in order to deal with my own emotional problems. Although I did develop real feelings for the person, our foundation in that relationship was not the foundation for a healthy relationship.

After I graduated from college, I was having a hard time being separated from family and friends as when I moved back to California. I felt very lonely and I had a strained relationship with some of the people who were close to me. During that time, I entered into a relationship with another boy who had experienced a lot of the same issues: depression, relationship problems, anxiety. I began to rely on him to fill the emotional void within myself and confided him about problems I had not told anyone else. However, once again I did not develop a strong foundation for a romantic relationship. We both had alternatively anxious and avoidant attachment styles, and our entire relationship was a push and a pull that was hardly ever communicated to each other.

Eventually, through therapy and friendship, I began to fill my own emotional voids in myself. I used therapy to work on my emotional issues, and no longer relied on romantic relationships in order to fill the void inside myself. I filled my life with more meaningful work, strong friendships, and hobbies and interests that made me no longer rely on another person to bring me stability or happiness. I still struggle with romance, especially given the importance that society places on it.  For instance, I have become deeply sad when good friends deprioritize our friendship after ending up in a romantic relationship.  However, I’ve realized that as long as the quality of friendship remains high, it is okay if there’s a little less time for me in a relationship.

Instead of looking to someone to fill my emotional voids, I now look at relationships as a form of connection. It’s a way to give and receive love. I no longer think of anyone as a “true love” or a “soul mate”; I’ve realized you are your own soulmate because you are the person who is with you for the entire journey of life. I’ve realized the importance of prioritizing yourself in any relationship, whether it’s a friendship or a romance. Instead, for me a relationship is about the three pillars of love: support, respect, and trust, and reflecting that back to yourself. Now, in a romantic partner, I look for someone I can share experiences with, but someone who I can also stand on my own two feet without.