I’m unhappy in my relationship and my partner is struggling. How can I possibly leave them?

Kai explains how to create an ethical and caring exit plan for a partnership that is no longer working

Ask Kai: Advice for the Apocalypse” is a column by Kai Cheng Thom to help you survive and thrive in a challenging world. Have a question? Email askkai@xtramagazine.com.

Dear Kai,

I have recently admitted to myself that I am deeply unhappy in my relationship, but I feel stuck in it because of the privilege and stability I have in my life that my partner doesn’t. 

My partner has many struggles with trauma and chronic illness. They have treated me poorly for a long time, blowing up at me when they get triggered and holding me to double standards. They won’t reach out to other friends, and won’t access health care; they rely on me as their only support. 

I want to be there for them, but I can no longer tolerate the cycle of being reamed out for something that was a simple mistake or for saying the wrong thing, and then being apologized to several hours later. It is too much pressure and to be honest, I sometimes wonder if this “counts” as emotional abuse.

I know that I need to leave for my well-being. But I still care about my partner, and I am scared of what will happen if I break up with them; our lease is in my name, they don’t have a job, their friends live far away, their relationship with their family is rocky and they are mentally doing very poorly overall.

How on earth do I leave them when they are in this situation?

Afraid of the Future

Dear Afraid, 

What a painful double bind you seem to be in: on the one hand, you know that you have to leave your partner, but on the other, the consequences of doing so seem overwhelming. I want to acknowledge the depth of your good intentions, as well as the thoughtfulness and care you are clearly putting into this process. Your question seems, essentially, to be one of conflicting ethics: How can you pursue your own highest health and happiness while also upholding your partner’s? How can you leave a relationship that is hurting you, but feels necessary for your partner’s survival? 

My own belief, Afraid, is that these apparently competing drives are not so contradictory as they might seem. 

 

Let us begin by establishing one essential truth: you are not responsible for your partner’s life. Yes, you certainly do play an important role in their current support system, and your relatively high amount of privilege means that you hold some particular responsibilities, which we will explore in greater depth. 

However, it is not up to you to play the role of sole care provider in perpetuity if that’s not something you want to do (and I don’t recommend it). Here, I’d like to cite Carly Boyce, queer therapist and writer, who points out that it is not your job to keep someone else alive. That is far too great a burden for any one person to carry—it is a responsibility that entire communities must hold. 

You may wish to consider the following challenging—but important—questions: Is the current situation even serving your partner’s best interests? Are you really helping them by staying in the relationship even though you don’t really want to be there? What would happen if you ignored your feelings of unhappiness and wanting to leave and decided to stay? 

Your partner’s current survival strategy of relying only on you for financial and emotional support might be working for them in the short term. Yet in the long run, putting all of one’s needs onto a single romantic partner is a precarious situation. The pressure of such a dynamic is likely to generate high anxiety, resentfulness and shame in both members of the relationship, while feelings of authentic connectedness and healthy intimacy fade and diminish. 

Such relationships are sometimes described as codependent in psychology and self-help literature, though I personally feel ambivalent about the potentially stigmatizing and pathologizing nature of this term. Dependence on others for survival and fulfillment is a natural and important part of human existence—all of our lives are interconnected and we all depend on others. So the problem is not dependence per se, but rather when that dependence becomes chronically and/or toxically unbalanced.

The truth is that most people find themselves in an unbalanced relationship dynamic at some point in their lives because it is an easy pattern to fall into: the dependent partner stays in the relationship out of need, while the caregiving partner stays out of obligation. Need and obligation are different from love, however, and this crucial distinction is often deeply felt in the heart. I believe that most people do not really want to be in relationships because of need or obligation. We want to be in relationships because of choice and love. 

All this is to say, you deserve a romantic life that makes you happy; and your partner deserves to have a network of care that is broad, sustainable and happy to be there with them. The only way to get there will be for you to both take the courageous step toward change. 

You mention in your letter that you wonder if your experience of your relationship “counts” as emotional abuse. It’s not for me to say whether it does or not in this column, Afraid, but what I will say is unbalanced care dynamics in a relationship can indeed cross over into the territory of emotional abuse, particularly when one partner uses shaming or intimidation to try and control the other. In the end, only you can decide whether you think that your experience is one of abuse—this question can be confusing, and often takes time and support to figure out. Regardless of the answer, what remains true is that you don’t deserve to be hurt or treated poorly, Afraid. You are allowed to leave a relationship—any relationship—but particularly one in which you are being hurt.

That said, you don’t need to simply pull the plug immediately and vanish from one another’s lives. As you’ve mentioned, there are some serious socio-economic issues to consider: the lease for your shared home is in your name, your partner’s mental health and financial situations don’t seem very stable and they don’t have much in the way of interpersonal support at the moment. It makes perfect sense that you would want to feel that they are safe and cared for before you consider leaving. 

I might suggest making a preliminary plan or “exit strategy” that honours your sense of ethics and the care you clearly still feel for your partner, which would create some security for them. Is there a limited-time financial arrangement that might help? Would transferring your lease to their name be possible and supportive? What about other financial steps you could take to give them some time to figure things out? Could you make a list of friends they could draw on for support (even if by phone or online), and some health care providers they could reach out to? 

If they are open to it, you could involve your partner in this discussion so that they share agency with you in it. What do they feel they need in a breakup? What would they feel is fair?  Sometimes assistance from a third party, such as a counselor, mediator or other professional, can be an important resource for the creation of a separation plan that is fair, caring and clear for both of you. This might also increase the emotional safety of the process because the presence of a neutral third party often reduces the chances that either party feels manipulated.

Remember that your partner is responsible for their own life, and you are responsible for your own boundaries. You do not need to stay indefinitely in the relationship to meet their needs. As the more privileged/socio-economically stable partner, you do need to create the conditions for them to develop new strategies to get their needs met—whether or not they follow through is up to them. 

Change is hard at the best of times, Afraid, and it can be particularly scary when it feels like someone’s well-being is at stake. But these are also the times when it is most important to be brave and true to one’s own values. Remember that you both deserve happiness. Remember that you both need kindness and care. Move towards freedom rather than fear, and you just might find a way of being that is better. 

Want more Kai? Check out her latest Quick Tips video. 

Kai Cheng Thom is no longer a registered or practicing mental health professional. The opinions expressed in this column are not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. All content in this column, including, but not limited to, all text, graphics, videos and images, is for general information purposes only. This column, its author, Xtra (including its parent and affiliated companies, as well as their directors, officers, employees, successors and assigns) and any guest authors are not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this column or the outcome of following any information provided directly or indirectly from it.

Kai Cheng Thom is a writer, performer, and social worker who divides her heart between Montreal and Toronto, unceded Indigenous territories. She is the author of the Lambda Award-nominated novel Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir (Metonymy Press), as well as the poetry collection a place called No Homeland (Arsenal Pulp Press). Her latest book, Falling Back in Love with Being Human, a collection of letters and poetry, is out now from Penguin Random House Canada.

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