The Challenge of Separatedness and Togetherness

In the life of every couple, and every individual, lies a tension between two central and contrasting needs: the need for ‘togetherness’ on the one hand, and for ‘separatedness’ on the other. The challenge of managing emotional distance in relationships emerges from the need to balance these opposing desires.

We all want, at one level, a lot of togetherness. We want to merge bodies, to sleep tightly entwined, to share every moment, to break down the barrier between I and you: to get back to what we all had at the start, complete union with someone else.

But at another level, we also very much want – and need – separatedness. We have to maintain our integrity. We need time to think alone. We have to be ready to meet the obstacles and challenges of our working lives unaided. We want to get on with our projects and friendships.

If we try to represent these two contrasting wishes with a motoring metaphor, we might say that there is, in every love story, an accelerator (that points to togetherness) and a brake (that creates distance).

We might also say that whenever a couple gets into trouble, it’s in some way because the accelerator and brake functions have proved difficult. There is a muddle, there is exaggeration, no one is speaking about who is doing what and how.

Ideally, both people can toggle gently and adroitly between brake and accelerator; they discuss consciously and with kindness their wishes for space and closeness. A period of intense togetherness can be followed, gracefully, by some distance. They can say, after a night of lovemaking and chat, ‘let’s spend tomorrow apart…’ They don’t turn their fear of abandonment into a terror of persecution. They aren’t so embarrassed about their need for separatedness, or afraid of the other’s anger, that they lapse into evasion and silence.

When the Brakes and Accelerators Fail

But sadly, too often, things come very unstuck around brakes and accelerators.

One person can’t ever use the brake gently. They jerkily put an ocean between themselves and the partner, which panics the other, who slams the accelerator in turn. One person has to carry all the yearning and need; the other gets to seem indifferent and aloof. One person is very, very hungry; the other has to be in a fast – which is unfair on both of them. One person carries a fear that the moment they so much as whisper that they need space, they’ll set off fury in their partner. They can’t find a way to admit to the humble, key and serene truth: they both, without being sadistic, need togetherness and separatedness.

Emotional Distance in Relationships

At times, the wish for separatedness can manifest itself in affairs, or the manic use of pornography or alcohol. Rather than being able to say (and before that to think) ‘I am in danger of being overwhelmed’, the person acts out their wish for distance in a pain-inducing form. They start to message an ex, they use work as an excuse to spend a long time out of the house, they develop an obsession with sailing or fishing, their symptoms jump into their bodies: they become unable to sleep anywhere near their partner, they can’t orgasm with them.

Sound use of brakes and accelerators is something that we should, if things go well, learn in childhood. It begins with mothers. They are initially entirely merged, quite literally, with their offspring. It’s an enormous effort for them to give birth and then to let go; to let the child have its own wishes, its own preferences, its own moods; to allow the child to be separate without persecuting it. How tempting it is to hold the child too tightly – or exile them. For their part, small children don’t make any of this easy. They natively press the accelerator very hard. They may want to marry mummy, they want to spend all their time with daddy, they refuse to go to school, they don’t want a sibling. It takes a lot of gentle, kindly care to help the child find their way to separatedness without too much humiliation or fear, to say, ‘there there, I know poppet wants to marry mummy but you don’t really want that, mummy’s far too old for that, you’ll meet someone far nicer in good time…’ A co-parent, who may or may not be dad, can be helpful. Humour comes in handy; one might call jokes the perfect way to handle the tension between accelerator and brake.

In adult life, the opposite of braking and accelerating willy-nilly is thinking. If we can think about all of this, we’re spared the drama of having to act rashly or obscurely. We can say, with love: I think we might both need some space after last night. Or: I think we need to see each other before we both get scared. The couple can get close and then take distance without becoming daunted or mean. The couple can laugh about how tricky it is to get text messaging or sleeping arrangements right. They recognise that managing emotional distance in relationships is an ongoing skill rather than a problem to solve once and for all. They learn how to drive without careering the car of love off the road.