Dating : Your Partner Is Not Your Rescue Project

I had my first ‘boyfriend’ when I was 15. Being an INFP, I’m already a highly sensitive and empathetic person as is, and feel naturally drawn to helping others. Put those traits in an insecure teenager and you’ll end up with a Bambi-on-ice type situation. Weak in the knees, easily impressed, unable to think rationally under the spell of rose-colored glasses, and will walk through fire for anyone.

I’ve gone through a few shitstorms in my life so by now I’ve learned to fend for myself and protect my mental health. But back then, I didn’t know better than to get consumed by a fling. I mean, it’s a first ‘love’ — what do you even know about anything at that point?

Now the story of Johnny is about someone blindly trying to ‘’help’’ someone who doesn’t need help. The girl was fine. My story differs greatly from theirs — neither of us was fine.

Long story short: the wrong people for each other at the wrong timing will turn into a vicious cycle of bringing each other up and pulling each other back down. Before I knew it, I found myself wondering how the current dragged me out to sea so far and why I didn’t try to swim back to the shore sooner.

The type of romance I just described is unfortunately not uncommon, and a (be it extreme) example of it was the one between Johnny and Jane. The rescuer and the rescuee.

Movies have a way of romanticizing a common scenario too: a woman finds a tormented broken soul in the shape of a chronically angry guy. Her savior complex kicks in and her love somehow turns him into a lovable and happy person.

All these twisted tales that I’ve been exposed to can stir up the illusion that that is healthy, or worse: that it’s sweet. How noble of you to dedicate your life to pulling somebody off rock bottom. Just to clarify: yes, everybody deserves to be loved. But it’s not my job to make somebody feel whole again.

There are three main reasons why I’m committed to avoiding this kind of situation at all costs moving forward.

1. It Will Wear Me Out

Seeing somebody drown will kick me straight into savior-mode. But what if my attempt at saving them will make me drown in the process? What’s the right move there? Go down together?

My Savior Complex would hold me back from reaching my full potential, even if I don’t want to see it like that. Sure, not every broken person is toxic, and pulling someone back to life may seem fulfilling. But a broken person has the power to drain another person’s mental energy entirely, even if they don’t mean to.

Energy is contagious and my mental energy is my most valuable asset. I need to protect it.

2. You Couldn’t Fix Them Even If You Tried

More often than not, it’s not somebody else’s love that will fix their problems, no matter how much it seems like it will. It’s just a temporary bandaid to stop the bleeding — not a permanent solution.

If their whole entire being depends on me being there, what good will that do?

3. Relationships Are a Two-Way Street

I give and give and give, but never get. Humans are social beings and we crave genuine mutual connection, which is kind of the whole point of a relationship. Mutual connection means mutually beneficial, mutually sacrificial, and mutually enjoyable experiences.

Human connection thrives on interdependence — not independence.

I’m committed to being vigilant when it comes to my time, love and energy. I only have so much to give, so I’ll have to spend it wisely.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: everybody deserves to be loved, and everybody deserves to be looked after. But the moment that a relationship turns into a rescue project or a deed of heroism instead of a mutually nurturing relationship, I’m setting myself up for disappointment and unhealthy dependency.

Love is not a cure for a broken soul and I truly believe that sometimes, the best thing you can do for somebody is to give them space to heal themselves.