Last week I learned the strangest thing: my cat has a secret life.
Sylvia Marie had been injured, and part of her recovery meant staying inside for two weeks wearing the cone of shame. As it happens, she escaped (under my husband’s watch). He had to head over to the neighbor’s house who lives behind us. When he got there to claim her, they asked him, “Is this your cat?” He confirmed that she was, and when they asked how long, he said ten years.
The neighbor laughed and said they thought she was their feral cat. They feed her. They have toys for her. They give her lactose-free milk. They have a name for her.
I have to tell you, we all felt betrayed by our little Sylvia Marie. While it’s a funny story, we also felt unimportant, unloved, and underappreciated. I wanted to ask the neighbor if they would like to split the vet bills for the past ten years, but I reframed.
Because here’s the lesson my cat taught me. We all need more than one bucket of love.
We are complex creatures. We have many different interests, pieces, and parts that need attention. When we expect to give or get everything from one place, we are ripping ourselves off from the vastness of life.
When I was first married, and who am I kidding, for many years after that, I wanted my husband to be everything: best friend, business partner, lover, advice giver, and on and on. What happened?
I was frustrated. I felt like he wasn’t doing a good job at any of the roles I had assigned him. I felt lonely. I had interests he didn’t share that I wanted to explore. And I stunted myself, not because he asked me to, but because I thought that was what you did in a relationship. That somehow, one person should be enough.
I’ve learned that not only is it not enough, it isn’t supposed to be.
With how I am wired, there is a hole inside of me that not one person can fill. I have to have many buckets to feel complete: love, career, hobbies, friends, my kids, my extended family, reading, writing, walking, hiking, and God. I need all of it.
And you know what that does? It expands me.
It takes the pressure off of any one person to be all the things I need to feel fulfilled. It keeps my expectations, of them and of myself, in check. I get to be who I am in all of these relationships and let them add to an already full life instead of expecting any one of them to be my life.
It frees me up to enjoy my many interests. It allows me to stay curious and evolve, while letting the people I love do the same. And when I do that, I’m not resentful for what someone can’t give me. I’m grateful for what they can give, and I seek out other relationships and experiences that fill other places.
My husband gets to be my husband. My sons get to be my sons. And my friends, thank God for friends, get to be my friends.
No one is ever going to fill every piece. And that’s okay.
And even though I was tempted to make my indoor/outdoor cat stay inside forever as punishment for cheating on us, I decided it was good for Sylvia Marie to have other interests and that those people can love her and add to her life too.
Something to try this week:
Ask yourself: Where am I expecting one person, one role, or one area of my life to do too much?
Then ask: What’s one other bucket I might open, without guilt, without explanation?
A walk. A conversation. A class. A curiosity you’ve been ignoring. A big life doesn’t come from asking more of one place. It comes from letting yourself have more places.
With love,
Gretchen
