Why love isn’t enough, and why a relationship and creating a bond aren’t the same thing.

In a previous post, I wrote about the different faces of poverty. I didn’t address poverty in relationships directly, but rather spoke generally about a lack of connection that keeps us trapped in loneliness.

I have many conversations with people who, even though they’re in relationships (whether romantic or otherwise), feel lonely or left alone. They don’t feel heard, seen, or understood. And personally, I know all too well the various emotions that arise when we build a relationship with another person, yet something is still missing.

A Relationship Isn’t Automatically a Deep Connection or Bond

Just because we say we’re in a relationship—that the other person is my boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, husband, or wife—doesn’t mean we have a deep bond with them. We can be in a relationship with someone for years or even decades, do things together, even live together, have children together, or work together, and yet still feel lonely, emotionally starved, or left alone because we haven’t built a real bond and don’t truly know the other person—or ourselves.

But how do we actually build deep bonds and connections? The answer to this question is complex, and I, too, am still in the process of exploring all the pieces of the puzzle in depth, but here’s a brief glimpse into my observations.

Communication Has Many Levels

What we communicate and how we do it—both with each other and with ourselves—is the foundation for building connections. This goes much deeper than just the words, body language, and tone of voice we use.

Because when we go one level deeper, the question arises: What is our intention in every single interaction? What emotion are we currently experiencing, and are we aware of it? And to what extent can we accept ourselves, others, and the current situation just as they are, without wanting to change them?

It’s also not about always communicating perfectly. I dare say that no one can get it 100% “right” in every situation. Because it’s not about being right at all—it’s about gradually becoming more aware, learning, stumbling, growing, and being open to feeling uncomfortable emotions that challenge our sense of self or our worldview.

Recognizing Our Beliefs, Projections, and Mirrors

When I embarked on my healing journey many years ago, I heard early on about beliefs and projections, as well as the Law of Mirrors (also known as the Law of Attraction) in relationships. (Note: The terms and definitions of beliefs, projections, mirrors, and transference are used slightly differently depending on the author and source material. There is no single definition that everyone fully agrees on. In my writing, I will attempt to define these terms as I use them to minimize misunderstandings. However, I do not claim that my definition is the “correct” one.) Nevertheless, it took a long time to truly understand what this is all about and how it works—and no matter how deeply I delve into it, I will probably never be able to fully grasp its complexity.

Stories, projections, and the law of mirrors—often viewed through a spiritual lens—are frequently conflated or misunderstood, which isn’t really helpful because it can distract us from experiencing the present moment.

Projections are…

Over the course of their lives, every person has accumulated a multitude of beliefs, which are essentially stories we have (mostly unconsciously) chosen to explain how the world and the beings within it function.

Projections are the transference of these beliefs to specific people or situations. There are projections that seem either positive or negative. But both are based on stories that prevent us from perceiving what is actually there.

After all, it doesn’t really matter whether it’s our projection onto “nature”—and how important, good, and healing it is—which may prevent us from perceiving the dangers it poses. Or whether it’s our projection of how mean, evil, and destructive the other person is, which prevents us from recognizing our own role in the situation. And even the idea that there is something wrong or broken within us, is, at its core, just that—an idea. A story we’ve told ourselves to find meaning or explanations for why other people act the way they do.

So what exactly is the Law of Mirrors?

The Law of the Mirror describes, on an energetic level, how we seemingly “attract” the people or situations that reflect back to us our deeply buried stories about how the world works. So if we have a deep-seated belief that everyone is just out to take advantage of us anyway, more and more such people will enter our lives so that our worldview remains intact, and that we can (usually only partially consciously) “say”: I knew it all along.

Whether this is a spiritual or magical law (and therefore either irrefutable or complete nonsense), or whether it can be logically explained—that we send out an unspoken invitation based on our subconscious behavior or body language—or whether it is simply part of our projection, and people or situations are only that way in our perception to confirm our beliefs, remains to be seen.

And now?

This deep understanding of what beliefs, projections, and the Law of Mirroring truly are—what they mean and how we can expand our perception and dissolve our beliefs—is the key to truly connecting with the person I’m interacting with.

And even the step of recognizing how differently we perceive the world or a particular issue builds connection and, through that, relationship. After all, relationship does not mean always agreeing or perceiving the world in the same way. Rather, a relationship means recognizing that my perspective is just that—mine—and that I can expand it. This doesn’t mean we have to accept others’ viewpoints as our own, but simply to learn how each of us perceives the world in a completely different way. Only then can we look a step deeper to see what universal truths exist that connect us.

Silence as One of the Greatest Misunderstandings

Depending on culture, gender, or socialization, silence has a fundamentally different meaning.

It often seems that, in many cultures, men in particular view stillness or silence as respectful, honorable, dignified, or the like. And I can even understand this perspective. However, I often get the impression that silence and keeping quiet are fundamentally confused or misunderstood.

In the German language it is easier to distinguish the different types of silence (Stille vs. schweigen, which means being still vs. not saying anything), but I’m attempting this by using stillness and silence. The two may seem superficially similar or even almost identical, but at their core, they couldn’t be more different.

Stillness is not speaking, yet still being there and present. In stillness, we can hear our own voice again. It allows us to communicate not reactively, but to first return to our center.

In contrast, silence, or keeping quiet very often involves putting up a wall and breaking off connection. One person is suddenly gone without explanation. This leaves the other person confused and helpless. And especially for those who focus on building and nurturing connection (a role very often taken on by women), silence can be perceived as a weapon.

We sometimes even see it as more hurtful than harsh words, because harsh words at least convey that we care (even if it’s a highly destructive form of communication—and not necessarily recommended). But silence, without maintaining the connection, conveys indifference and an attempt to shift—almost offload—one’s share of responsibility in the relationship onto the other person.

The Effect of Silence ans Stillness

When we communicate that we’re going into stillness—and why, when, and how—the connection remains intact and can even lead to a deepening of that connection. This way, the other person knows what’s going on and can help hold the space of stillness accordingly. Then stillness helps us become aware of all the subtler things happening in the background.

But if we simply remain silent, without explanation, it can mean anything—and at best triggers an “oh, okay, then never mind,” but at worst inflicts the pain of a deep wound on the other person.

This can be the feeling of abandonment and the associated fear for one’s survival, or the pain and fear of having done something wrong (or even of being wrong) and therefore no longer being loved. And there are probably countless other wounds and associated fears, most of which originated in early childhood, that are triggered by the other person’s silence.

So, as a first step, it’s important for both sides to recognize whether it’s stillness or a lack of communication, so they can respond appropriately.

If both want to maintain the connection, they need to get to know each other’s perspectives on the world and communicate openly about how to navigate this together, so each can take a step toward the other.

Love Is Not Enough

Love is probably the word that leads to the most misunderstandings, because it is far too often used incorrectly or inappropriately. And it takes a lifetime—and beyond—to even begin to truly see, sense, feel, and fully grasp all the dimensions of love.

Neuroscientist Gerald Hüther defines it this way: “Love is the unconditional interest in the beloved’s personal growth.” But as soon as we have a plan for how the other person should be, it is no longer love. That’s easy to say, yet quite difficult to put into practice in detail.

When I say “love isn’t enough,” I’m referring directly to the pieces of the puzzle I mentioned earlier. Just because we feel a strong attraction to someone doesn’t mean it’s love. And even if we’ve been given the great gift of feeling truly seen and accepted by the other person—and of being able to give that same feeling back—that feeling alone is far from enough to make a relationship work.

It requires a constant, deeper exploration and recognition of our own projections onto the world, on how relationships should be, on what we want from a relationship and believe we need, and on who the other person is or should be for us. Only in this way can we truly learn to see the other person fully and accept them as they are, so we can best support them in their personal growth. And that takes a lot of time, patience, and understanding.

Breaking Free from (Emotional) Poverty in Relationships

You may already be familiar with some of this. Perhaps I wrote it primarily for myself, just to put together a few of the puzzle pieces.

Recently, I read some very old diaries from when I was a teenager and realized how lonely I felt back then. Without having anyone with whom I felt safe enough to share how I was doing—and to hear from the other person how they were doing—I was completely disconnected from the world around me. Everything felt dangerous, and I seemed to be the only one who had a problem with certain things.

It wasn’t until I had found the courage to open up to someone again, that light could stream into my life, and I had taken that important first step out of emotional poverty.

But breaking free from this kind of emotional poverty requires an immense amount of courage, patience, and perseverance. And what I’m currently learning is this: A healthy relationship always takes more than two people. It takes other people who can help you see new perspectives or break out of tunnel vision. It takes a support system that doesn’t label one person as the perpetrator and the other as the victim, but can also see the wounded little children behind them. And it takes people who serve as interpreters of the other person’s worldview, in case the two of them can’t manage it on their own.

Friends can fill many of these roles. But often, it also takes someone—such as a therapist, an elder, or a spiritual healer—who isn’t part of the system, acts completely neutrally, and can provide new tools for building deeper, more open, and more trusting bonds in relationships.