Relationships, huh? They’re a bit like a flat-pack from IKEA—looks simple in theory, but the instructions are always missing a few steps, and you end up with a couple of leftover screws wondering what went wrong. Yet somehow, they’re worth the effort, especially when you figure out the three essential parts that help hold them together.
Communication
Let’s start with communication, the one thing every self-help article and relationship expert bangs on about. It’s pretty simple, right? Just talk about your feelings, your day, your opinions on what to have for dinner, and all will be well. Except, as we all know, it’s not always that easy.
Take this for example: In a previous relationship, I had the brilliant idea of bringing up serious topics when we were in bed, just before sleep. Perfect timing, right? Turns out, this led to my partner getting all stressed out before bed and us having the world’s worst conversations at the world’s worst time. Now, I can look back and say, “Hmm, perhaps the pillow talk about life’s great worries wasn’t my best move.”
Nowadays, I’ve learned that if something’s on my mind, it’s best to choose a neutral space, and I make sure to ask if my partner is in the right headspace to chat. I don’t just drop emotional bombs right before they’re about to dig into a meal or settle in for a Netflix marathon. Instead, I ask, “Hey, do you have time to talk about something?” If the answer is no, I might chat to a friend, take a breather, or revisit the conversation later when we can both focus. It’s not rocket science, but it does take some practice.
But here’s the fun bit—when you really need to talk (and I mean really), there are times you’ll still have to wait. Your partner’s about to hop on a work call? Probably not the best time to spill your heart out. That’s when you say, “Cool, let’s chat after.” It’s a mix of picking your moments and understanding that not every issue needs to be addressed with an “I need to talk RIGHT NOW” approach.
Trust
Now, onto trust. It’s that thing we all know we need, but sometimes it feels a bit like that delicate soufflé you spent hours on. One wrong move, and it deflates. Trust isn’t just about the “big” stuff like cheating (though yes, that’s important too); it’s about all the little things—like trusting your friend or partner to show up when they say they will, or to not roll their eyes at your latest attempt to explain how you got lost driving with a sat-nav.
Here’s a fun example: Imagine you’ve made plans with a friend, and at the last minute, they cancel on you. Sure, you might shrug it off the first time. “Life happens,” you say, smiling through slightly gritted teeth. But what if they keep doing it? Eventually, your inner monologue becomes something like, “Is it me? Am I the problem?” Spoiler alert: probably not. But your trust in their reliability starts to wobble.
It’s the same in romantic relationships. We like to think trust is either there or it isn’t, but it’s really more like a dial—it can shift depending on how you’re feeling that day. One day, you’re confident and trust them entirely; the next, you’re feeling a bit insecure and suddenly imagining they’ve got a secret life as a spy (okay, maybe not that dramatic, but you get the idea).
Trust can be fragile. When it’s shaken, it takes time to rebuild. If someone apologizes, that’s a good start, but don’t expect trust to magically bounce back to 100%. It’s more like, “Thanks for the apology, but I’m still going to need to see you actually show up next time.” Keep cancelling, and well, don’t be surprised when your friend list starts to look a little sparse.
Personal Responsibility
And finally, we arrive at personal responsibility, which, let’s be honest, can be a bit of a buzzkill. Because it’s the part where we have to take ownership of our own actions and feelings. Yes, it’s so much easier to blame everyone else, but that rarely works out in the long run.
Personal responsibility means recognising that you’re in charge of your own boundaries, reactions, and choices. If someone keeps crossing a line with you—let’s say, a friend who always cancels on plans—then it’s time to set some boundaries. You might say, “I feel hurt when you cancel, and if it keeps happening, I might need to rethink how we hang out.” Notice the key part here? You’re not telling them to stop cancelling (because, spoiler alert, you can’t control them). You’re just setting out your boundaries.
Boundaries are a funny thing because so many people think they’re selfish. But here’s the truth: boundaries are the opposite of selfish. If you didn’t care about a relationship, you wouldn’t even bother setting a boundary. You’d just disappear and never text back. Setting a boundary is actually you saying, “Hey, I care about this enough to let you know what I need to make this work.”
The key to boundaries is staying in your own lane. You can’t say, “You need to stop doing this because I feel bad.” That’s controlling. Instead, you can say, “If this keeps happening, I’m going to need to make changes for my own mental well-being.” You’re just letting them know what the natural consequences are, and then—this is the hard part—you actually have to follow through if it happens again.
Look, at the end of the day, you can only control yourself. You can’t force other people to act how you want them to, but you can control how you react to their actions. Stay calm (or at least, try to). It’s about taking care of yourself emotionally, mentally, and even physically.
A Little Personal Note
I’ve learned these lessons the hard way—through trial and error, and plenty of awkward conversations. With my first partner, I used to bring up issues right before bed. Not ideal. Now, I’ve learned to check in first: “Are you in the headspace for this chat?” It’s made a world of difference. Trust-wise, I’ve experienced those moments where someone cancels last minute. At first, I’d brush it off, but after a few more cancellations, I started to feel a little less eager to reschedule.
And boundaries? Let’s just say I used to feel guilty about setting them. But I’ve learned that if I don’t set boundaries, I’m just setting myself up for frustration. Now, I know it’s okay to say, “This isn’t working for me, and I need to make some changes.”
So, if you ever catch yourself feeling guilty about setting a boundary or wondering if you’re being too demanding by asking for a conversation, remember: the effort you put into communication, trust, and personal responsibility is what makes relationships work. And if anyone says otherwise? Well, maybe they need a few leftover IKEA screws to put that together.