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First, understand your preference for competition. Perhaps
you learned competition in your birth family, because what
you needed — e.g., recognition or affection —
was in short supply and you had to compete or go without.
Maybe you're a first-born married to another first-born, and
you both believe you're entitled to be boss.
Perhaps you think that, in every situation, there's only one
right way; and you compete to be the one who has it. Possibly
being close makes you uncomfortable, and, by competing, you
keep your distance. Or perhaps you compete because you believe
that, to feel worthwhile, you must always do better than someone
else.
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Second, question your competitiveness. Ask yourself, what
benefit do I get from being competitive? (E.g., you get to
be right about an argument.) Then ask, why is that benefit
important to me? (E.g., you must justify your feelings to
accept them; and believing that you're right is the only justification
that works for you.)
Then consider how your competitiveness affects the relationship.
(E.g., you can usually wear your partner down and "prove"
that, in an argument, you were right. You can then justify
your feelings to yourself. But you pay a high price. Your
partner resents you deeply; and you're uneasy, knowing that
you had to beat someone down to feel worthwhile.)
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Third, reorient yourself. If you conclude that the costs
to the relationship of competition outweigh the benefits,
you will seek a better way to meet your needs.
Competing partners usually assume that scarcity makes their
competition necessary. There isn't enough (truth, attention,
sympathy, etc.) to go around; so each must fight to get his.
If competition is to yield to a better way, that belief about
scarcity must be disproved.
Battling partners should understand that their relationship
style perpetuates scarcity. E.g., if two people both talk
at the same time, then listening is scarce indeed —
nobody is doing it. Or, if people ridicule each other's opinions,
then merit is also in short supply, because somebody's viewpoint
must always be "stupid."
- Fourth, try cooperation instead of competition. As an experiment,
adopt the hypothesis that there is enough (of whatever matters)
for both of you.
A commitment to cooperate requires that you each think for two
instead of one — "me and you" instead of "me
against you." For example, she says, "At the end of
the day, I need time to myself." He says, "I need
time to myself then, too." Then somebody says, "We
both need time to ourselves at the end of the day. How can we
work together to assure that each of us gets some time alone?"
This "win-win" approach promotes the long-term health
of the relationship. It requires thinking beyond the moment
and taking seriously the truth that, if one person wins it all,
the other loses it all — and losers make unhappy partners.
Thinking for two instead of one requires a profound reorientation
for most of us. Trying this exercise may help: Take some situation
in which you appear to have competing needs. E.g., Roger wants
to crash after dinner and watch TV; Betsy wants to talk. In
this exercise, each advocates forcefully for the other person's
needs.
In order to advocate well for each other, Roger interviews Betsy,
asking questions about her need until he fully understands.
And Betsy interviews Roger, for the same purpose. Then, facing
each other, Roger champions Betsy's need, and Betsy champions
Roger's need.
Assuming success in the exercise, they experience, through each
other's empathy and support, enough security to drop the egocentric
grasping after their own wants that we all do when we're afraid.
They can then trust the "we." Immediately, they have
enough for both. And competition becomes unnecessary.
Click here
for print friendly version of this article.
Copyright © 2005 Dr. David E. Sanford All rights
reserved.
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