Great Expectations

‘Tis the season of great expectations. And while many experience the December holidays with joyful anticipation and good cheer, many others approach the holidays with dread and depression. ‘Tis also the season for stress, anxiety and disappointment. There are undoubtedly many, many reasons for the holiday blues. But I think that one of the most significant factors that creates and sustains holiday stress centers on expectations. While we create expectations for ourselves and others throughout the year, the December holidays amplify them. Indeed, it seems that the holidays are especially freighted with high expectations. For too many people, the December holidays resonate with the word “should” (or words like it—i.e., ‘ought’, 'must'): I "should” buy XX a gift; I “should” bake holiday cookies for my family; I “should” attend the holiday party at my boss’ home; I “ought” to spend time with my family; my family “should” be happy; my partner “should” love me and show it by doing _____; I “should” get along with my parents or with my children; the money I spend on gifts “should” show how much I love my family; my family “should” be grateful for my generosity. There are enormous social conventions and familial pressures that reinforce all these expectations. (How well retail stores and advertisers understand and exploit this!) Unfortunately, expectations often collide with reality. And so, all those “shoulds” become imperatives, and the season that “should” be joyful turns into a season of drudgery and joyless obligation.

Alas, our expectations are not always reasonable. And so, when expectations are out of sync with reality (or what is reasonably possible), or when expectations have morphed into joyless obligations, anxiety, resentment, and disappointment seem almost inevitable. (Notice, too, how expectations remove us from the present reality into an unknown, inchoate future—a sure recipe for creating anxiety.)

It seems to me that most, if not all, the season’s expectations center on the quality of our relationships. The holidays amplify any anxiety we may feel about our sense of connectedness. Look at the list above; each statement reflects insecurity about relationship. And yet this is precisely where I see hope for changing our experience of the holidays: I think that our anxious expectations during this season are really expressions of our desire to feel connected, to love and feel loved—in the present.

From my vantage as a therapist, the holidays offer an annual opportunity to take a look at our desires for connection and relationship, and how our expectations express those desires (not that such work need be limited to the holidays!). The work of therapy, especially during the December holidays, can focus on examining the expectations we have for ourselves and others. Therapy can help us understand how we’ve come to have all those expectations; it can help us discern how our expectations impel or impede our growth and relatedness. Therapy can also help us determine whether those expectations are reasonable or in sync with the larger contexts and realities of our lives. Therapy can help us rid ourselves of or reconfigure those unreasonable or dysfunctional expectations.

In essence, the work of therapy is really about creating and improving our connections and relationships—work that acquires an urgency during the December holiday season as people struggle to cope and find some measure of deeper meaning and peace.

By looking at and by letting go of those expectations that impede growth and relatedness; by embracing the desire for connection; and by finding healthy ways to express those desires, we can experience the holidays as opportunities for connection. We may even find some small measure of serenity and peace.

Feeling desire, feeling alive

“I want to understand her… I’m afraid of losing her.” Relationship issues commonly arise in therapy. The scenario goes something like this: a young man comes into therapy sharing desperate distress arising from his relationship. He describes feeling alternately connected and disconnected from his girlfriend, and he is confused about the disconnection. He talks about feeling an intimacy with her that was unlike any other he’d experienced; however, those moments of emotional intimacy quickly dissipate when he felt her suddenly withdraw from him. Whenever she withdraws, he feels abandoned and subsequently absents himself from her. He does not understand her behavior and feels he is on an emotional rollercoaster. He says that he never quite feels that their relationship is on stable ground.

Couples work typically raises questions about communication, about how expectations and needs are being articulated in the relationship, and about the fundamental assumptions each person makes about the other—assumptions that often are not questioned, assumptions that create barriers to meaningful intimacy. All reasonable issues. However, I am also aware of the powerful desire for erotic and emotional intimacy that is being expressed. And yet, equally powerful anxiety about desire is being expressed at the same time. In these moments, I often wonder if the girlfriend was experiencing similar desire and anxiety. It often appears so. Indeed, desire and anxiety create conflict which then shapes many relationships.

Desire is fundamental to being human. We all experience desire, and our desires have many objects. We constantly live with desire. Desire is our growing edge; as such, desire often destabilizes us, particularly as we reach for that which we want. Desire is often erotic, and our experience of erotic desire for one another is probably the most challenging for us; it exposes us as people with needs. We often feel vulnerable when we feel desire. Hence the anxiety that arises when we feel powerful desires. And when we desire something that would appear to be forbidden, our experience of anxiety is likely to be amplified. Indeed, we are often NOT comfortable with our desires. And we are not comfortable feeling vulnerable. So, we defend against our desires—both consciously and unconsciously.

The desire for erotic and emotional intimacy is an experience most of us feel deeply. We desire to be known by another person, and yet we fear being known fully. We desire a sense of connection, and yet we fear connection and often withdraw from it. Intimacy asks us to be vulnerable—to be open to the unknown, to be open to the possible. Intimacy asks that we give up some of our defenses, our need for control and learn instead to risk being vulnerable and share control.

The dynamics of any human relationship are complex, especially our most intimate relationships. Most of us enter relationships with preconceived notions about how relationships are supposed to work. We carry the baggage of our past relationships into the present; for better or worse, our past relational experiences impact how we approach our present relationships. But more important, we also bring our desires (and anxieties) into the relationship.

Over the years, it’s become clear to me that being able to identify one’s desires, understand them, accept them and manage them are keys to healthy relationships and healthy living. Psychotherapy is, of course, known for helping people deal with their anxieties, but it is not as well known for its ability to help people live with their desires. This is unfortunate because that is what psychotherapy is really all about! (One of Freud's most important insights centered on his understanding that fears are really wishes--desires that have been repressed.) Getting in touch with, understanding, and accepting one’s desire(s) is one of the most life-giving, life-affirming aspects of psychotherapy. Learning to be vulnerable, take risks, and take responsibility for one's desire is similarly life-giving.

Indeed, to feel desire is to feel alive.