I commonly hear people making comments like, "I put much more into my relationship than what I'm getting out." I understand why someone would say that. I have had that feeling in some of the relationships that I've survived. But I also think that such statements reflect a fundamental flaw in "accounting" principles.
When you think about the effort you put into a relationship, you include everything . . . of course. There's the work that you do to earn the money to pay the bills. You go to the grocery store and do the shopping. You wash his laundry. You tolerate that stupid half-whiskey barrel table that's left over from his bachelor days. Guys, you take a couple of gallons of gas and go find her because she forgot to stop and fill it up like you reminded her this morning. You put up with her mother and that alone should entitle you to receive a medal. She has this illogical thing about the toilet seat and she has you sleeping in a bed that is so fru-fru that you feel like Liberace.
A large part of the effort goes unnoticed by your partner because it happens when they aren't around, or because the effort consists of keeping your mouth shut when you'd really like to tell her mother to go fuck herself, or you didn't throw a major bitch-fit when his snotty-nosed 14 year old daughter ate all of the potato chips but left one in the bag and put it back on the shelf.
Okay, so you know how much effort you laid out in the past few days. Now, what do we compare that to? Here's the reality you never confront: you have no idea about many of the things your partner does to make the relationship work. You don't remember, of course, but that stupid story you told about getting the truck stuck on the side of the mountain in Colorado 18 years ago . . . you told her that story before, but she just sat there and smiled when you told it again. You forgot about it but she never said anything about the laundry when you weren't feeling very well last week and left skid marks in your boxers. You realize that she does the cooking and the laundry and, of course, you know how remarkable she is on Friday nights when she has two margaritas and then gets in the hot tub naked with you. But when you are adding up all of her contributions, you can't add things that you aren't even aware of, so of course you undervalue her contributions! Of course you win the competition! And when she does the math . . . not surprisingly, the numbers she gets show that she makes much more of a contribution than you!
Go figure! Or, better yet, don't go figure. That comparison that you've been making and complaining about . . . you've been comparing apples and oranges. What a surprise!
Accounting and relationships actually do not mix very well, so there is no reason to try to apply accounting principles in this context. What kind of "accounting" questions should you be asking? There are only two relevant questions:
1. Am I getting my needs satisfied by this relationship?
2. Are the contributions I routinely make simple, routine contributions that should be expected, or am I called upon to make extraordinary contributions to the relationship?
If you get what you need from the relationship and the contributions you routinely make are not extraordinary, you have a well balanced relationship. Smile, add potato chips to the grocery list, and thank God for another day in paradise.
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