Jenny Block on how we define happy
I’ve been thinking about the word “happy” a lot lately. I’ve been thinking about how many synonyms there are for it, including “happiness.” “Joy.” “Bliss.” “Contentment.” “Peace.” “Elation.” “Glad.” “Thrilled.” “Delighted.” And I’ve been thinking about why there are so many words and what that means in the context of relationships.
I often hear people ask others if they are “happy” in their relationships. Answers run the gamut from “Sure” and “Of course” to “I guess” and “Not particularly.” It always makes me wonder what kind of gauge they are working from and what happy means to them. My father always says that the root of many people’s dissatisfaction in their lives—and in their relationships—is that they think life should predominantly ribbons and rainbows. He says we have confused happiness with giddy delirium.
I think he’s right.
If you are walking around expecting first-meeting butterflies and constant beginning-of-a-relationship desire and googly-eyed flirtation every minute of every day—and if that is your definition of being happy in a relationship—well, frankly, you have very little chance of ever achieving it.
But if instead you walk around expecting support and respect and kindness and warmth sprinkled with romance and sex and flirting, all mixed in with sometimes light (and occasionally heavy) doses of real life, then your chances of happiness are significantly higher.
It’s all about your definition of happy.
They say if you do something you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. That’s a nice thought—great for those who can manage it, but a pipe dream for many… especially creatives. But there seems to me to be a corollary to that when it comes to relationships—something like, if you’re with someone you really love, you won’t mind the work a strong, healthy, functional “happy” relationship requires.
You see, that’s the thing: A happy relationship isn’t necessarily an easy relationship. I know very few—maybe not any—relationships that don’t require constant work from both parties. There’s another word whose definition is so varied that I think it clouds this issue. If you feel like you are always trudging up hill and the “work” isn’t worth the reward, that’s the kind of work you can do without.
If, on the other hand, you are contentedly growing and changing with your partner—doing your best to be your best self and all that jazz—and you do it because you love your partner and want to be with them and want the best possible relationship you can have with them… well, that’s the kind of work I can get behind.
If you’re relationship makes you feel relaxed and safe; if it makes you feel loved and protected; if it makes you feel inspired to always do your best to do better by your partner; and your heart feels full, that’s what happy really is.
If we think of the definition of happy as contentment or peace instead of as sliding down rainbows and dancing with unicorns, then I think we will find we are actually a lot happier than we think. Interestingly, when we decide we are happy; when we walk through the world happy; when we look at our partner and think she/he makes us happy, it actually makes us happy! Happy begets happy, like smiling begets smiling.
Maybe happy is more of a state of being that we can choose than we think.
Partners will eat the last cookie. Cars will break down. Dogs will throw up in the hallway. And sex and romance won’t always be on the front burner. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy. It only means we have to decide to be happy. Of course, only you can decide what level of content is content enough for you.
But know that if you can pick a level that’s more weekly situation dramedy than rom-com, you’ll likely find yourself a heck of a lot of happiness.
The killer of happiness is unreasonable expectations. We’re human. That’s a pretty big limitation. But we’re allowed to be wonderfully flawed. It’s accepting those flaws—in ourselves, in our partners, in our relationships, in our lives—that can bring us a kind of happiness that just might be better than Cinderella or Sleepless in Seattle.
I’m happy. I’m happy because I’m with someone who loves me, all of me, most of the time. She gets frustrated with me. I disappoint her. We argue. We get disconnected. But I love her and the life we have together and every bump makes us better. Nearly every bump can be unpackaged into a misunderstanding founded in old baggage. And we all have that.
What I know is that once the unpackaging is done and the smoke clears, there’s always us. Imperfectly perfect us. And that’s my kind of happy. Real happy. No ribbons, roses or rainbows required.
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