How to Create a Magical Relationship Part 3

Sometimes this age is called the "terrible twos." This is because at this age, children are virtually uncontrollable and have a tendency to do everything that is contrary to what is being requested of them. "No!" a child will emphatically state as he or she rushes toward the street and the parent, aware of danger, has to restrain him or her. As adults, haven't we observed our own behaviors that seem to be at war with what we want to accomplish in our relationships? Hasn't the voice of reason whispered, I better get ready to go if I want to be on time I better get ready to go if I want to be on time, while the other voice in our head wheedles and whines, Just fi ve more minutes Just fi ve more minutes, until we are so pressured that we can hardly make it on time? That "just fi ve more minutes" conversation may sound 40 40 suspiciously like the one you had with your parents when they were trying to get you to go to bed. suspiciously like the one you had with your parents when they were trying to get you to go to bed.

Drew has tried to a.n.a.lyze why he is often late to important engagements. He has even made resolutions to be on time. So, when faced with calling and communicating with his date and giving her the option to say, "Don't worry about the cologne,"

or "Take a shower and come later," or "Let's have our date another day," he rushes out the door in hopes of it being all right but, in all honesty, knowing that he is bringing a problem with him.

"How to fi x this?" you might ask. Well, fi xing or changing this pattern will lead to more inappropriate actions. Don't forget, Drew's resolution to be on time-as if this were the source of his problems-has blinded him to the fact that "on time" is not always the right or the only choice. If, on the other hand, you simply become aware of your hidden agendas, you will not have to act them out mechanically. With awareness, you become free to make appropriate choices in your life.

I N H E R I T E D T R A I T S.

Some of your agendas may actually be inherited traits. We, as individuals, may think we are making personal choices in our lives and be totally unaware that we are actually acting out some script that has been handed down, via our family lines, as a blueprint for survival. For example, we know a man who breeds Peruvian Paso horses, which are known for their smooth gait and good temperament. We've been told that these traits have been reinforced through generations of breeding. This is true of humans also. Your family has learned to survive via some patterns of behavior that are useful, but only if you do not have to operate through them or rebel against them.

For example, if you were raised in a family where people worried, this way of relating to life will have been pa.s.sed down to you. This automatic tendency to worry may not be useful R e c o g n i z i n g H i d d e n A g e n d a s R e c o g n i z i n g H i d d e n A g e n d a s 41 41 or productive or produce any satisfaction in your life, yet if you are unaware of the familial inclination to be anxious, you will personalize it and think that is has something to do with you.

Once you notice this predisposition, however, there is no need to keep perpetually worrying or to fi ght against this habit.

With Instantaneous Transformation, the mere seeing of this behavior pattern is enough to have it dissolve. With awareness, this familial trait will lose its power over your life.

Friends of ours, Jed and Lena, had a child, Anna, a beautiful, innocent baby, growing, absorbing, and learning from her environment. We have known her parents for more than fi fteen years, and during this time we have also seen them grow. We have seen their triumphs and their disappointments. Their life experiences have included births in the family and the deaths of loved ones. Lena has a particular facial expression when she is upset and crying. Her chin quivers, her lower lip sticks out of its own accord, and these traits make her sadness or upset an endearing, sympathetic picture. When Lena cries, one is compelled to take notice and be sensitive and caring. Well, guess what? The day she was born, Anna, who had never seen her mother cry, had a miniature version of the quivering chin and protruding lip. She didn't "learn" this behavior from her mother. It was a preset survival tool that she has in her genetic toolbox of survival techniques.

T I N Y T E A R S.

For an infant, crying is a way of communication, but as an adult in a relationship, it can be an annoying habit that individuals use in an attempt to avoid confl ict. We have seen both men and women cry in an instant as a way to gain sympathy.

There once was a doll called Tiny Tears. It was a favorite of young girls who got to practice being mommies and comforting the baby when it cried. We had a young client, Tina, who cried whenever she was on the spot. At work, the crying 42 42 mechanism would turn on if she thought she was going to be given input by her boss. With her boyfriend, it was hard to have a serious conversation without the tears turning on. Her crying was as mechanical as it was for the Tiny Tears doll. If the circ.u.mstances applied a little pressure, her eyes would well up, whether she wanted them to or not. And Tina hated the crying. mechanism would turn on if she thought she was going to be given input by her boss. With her boyfriend, it was hard to have a serious conversation without the tears turning on. Her crying was as mechanical as it was for the Tiny Tears doll. If the circ.u.mstances applied a little pressure, her eyes would well up, whether she wanted them to or not. And Tina hated the crying.

She was embarra.s.sed at work and at home. It was a case of the First Principle of Instantaneous Transformation all over again.

The more she tried to avoid crying, the more she was provoked to cry (First Principle). When Tina brought awareness to her situation, she realized that she could only be crying when she was crying (Second Principle). As Tina began to let herself be teary without judging herself for it, the tears became less automatic (Third Principle). Tina also took one other important step. She told herself the truth that sometimes she used her tears as a tool to gain sympathy. When she was young, crying was a ploy that kept her parents from punishing her. It was hard to be strict with someone who was already punishing herself so harshly. Crying her way out of diffi cult situations had become a way of life. The problem was that this way of relating did not support a functional relationship with her boyfriend nor support her advancing in her job and having a sense of well-being in her life. With awareness, the courage to tell the truth, and application of the Three Principles of Instantaneous Transformation, the tears became a thing of the past.

W H AT I S L OV E ?.

After Becky and Jake were married, Becky continued with one of Jake's family traditions by making chicken soup every Friday evening. However, try as she might, Jake would always say, "Becky, your soup is very good, but it's not as good as my mother's."

So Becky bought the best ingredients, changed the spices, tried with more vegetables, and still heard, "Thank you for R e c o g n i z i n g H i d d e n A g e n d a s R e c o g n i z i n g H i d d e n A g e n d a s 43 43 making me this soup. If only it were as good as my mother used to make."

One Friday afternoon, Becky went down to the bas.e.m.e.nt to take the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer when she discovered that the washing machine had overfl owed and there was a tide of sudsy water covering the fl oor.

By the time Becky got the mess cleaned up and returned back upstairs, she realized that the soup was burnt.

Frantic because it was too late to get another chicken and start over, Becky set the table and decided to serve the soup anyway and hope for the best. When Jake got home and sat down to eat, she placed a bowl in front of him and returned to the kitchen for bread.

"Becky, get in here!" Jake bellowed.

Cringing, she returned.

"Becky, this soup. Finally, it's just like my mother's!"

When you are looking for a loving partner, you may automatically have a hidden agenda to look for the things you experienced as a child that you a.s.sociated with love, even if they are not necessarily things that you would want in a partner from an adult perspective.

Like with the chicken soup a.n.a.logy, you may pick a partner with the same attributes that you saw in your fi rst love, your mother or father. If so, you will look for a man or a woman who embodies those old familiar ways of being or relating, even if, in truth, they are not something you as an adult would prefer.

A child's mind is not discerning. Love from a parent can come with extras attached, such as anger, frustration, etc.

Without awareness, you may unwittingly be repeating a family tradition rather than choosing a partner who truly fi ts. If you grew up in a family that argues, you will look for a partner who will fi ght with you because that is your schematic for love.

With awareness, you can reveal what has been hidden.

If you don't judge yourself for being attracted to people with 44 44

"bad" attributes, the way will be open to build a partnership with your current mate. Or perhaps it will be with a new partner who will satisfy your adult desires for relationship rather than fulfi lling your child's idea of love.

Exercises: Recognizing Hidden Agendas 1. Notice if, after reading this chapter, you have inadvertently given yourself the new hidden agenda to be "agendaless."

2. Notice when speaking with your partner if you have the agenda to be right about your point of view.

5.Don't Tell Me What to Do!

One of the most basic inhibitors in a love relationship is the resistance to being told what to do. People are afraid they may be dominated by their partner's desires and somehow forced to go along with or do things that are not what they really want. On the surface, this is a reasonable concern. No one wants to be a "doormat" or lose his or her independence.

However, it never occurs to most people that even resisting simple requests is a basic behavior pattern that started at an early age. Have you ever watched a very young child throw a spoon or something off his or her highchair, over and over?

Even if the parent says "don't," this action is like a very fun game to the child. When the child becomes mobile, he or she continues the game by running in the opposite direction from the parent. Saying "come here" is tantamount to a command to run somewhere, anywhere else.

Avoiding being told what to do is so normal that it has followed most of us through the many stages of our lives largely unnoticed. In the next section, Ariel relates her experience of fi rst noticing Shya and how his way of being was so different that it set him apart. In this story, you can see how mental processes follow us from an early age and how they become so normal that they are transparent. Perhaps it will take you 45 45 46.back to times when you constructed the groundwork for your relationships as you know them today. back to times when you constructed the groundwork for your relationships as you know them today.

YO U R AU T O M AT I C " N O "

In 1980, I took my fi rst personal growth course. Taking this workshop was really exciting for me. It helped me look at how I related to my parents, my sisters, and my life. I looked at my fears and aspirations, my career and appearance. I really went for it with everything I could muster. I remember we had to fi ll out a form and one of the questions was, "What do you want to get out of this seminar?" I was in heaven. This question was an easy one. I wanted to get work as an actress, lose weight, like myself better, improve my love life, stop being so afraid, fi x up my relationship with Mom and Dad, and about one hundred and ten other things. I even had to attach an extra sheet of paper to handle all of the items that needed work.

As it turned out, something freed up for me in that group. I went to three auditions the week following its completion, and I landed all three parts. I was on a roll. But by the time I went to the evening seminar where Shya walked into my life, the freshness and sense of freedom had already faded, and I was an old pro at this new system that I had just learned. Already my excitement for life had diminished, and I was replacing it with a reasonable facsimile of true enthusiasm.

"It's time for announcements," said Shya, our new seminar leader, from the front of the room. This was the third evening of a ten-session series, and it was the third time we'd had a new facilitator. Unbeknownst to me, these courses rarely had more than one leader, but for some reason we were on our third.

Announcements! We all knew what that meant, and I was ready to show it. I sat up in my chair and, along with the two hundred or so others, I clapped and cheered and stomped my feet. "Announcements" was the part of the seminar that was devoted to offering other courses and projects and tickets to go to big groups with your friends at places like New York's Beekman Theater. We were all enthused.

D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o !

47."Oh, be quiet. I know all about you guys," Shya calmly said as he settled into the chair in the front of the room. "You all clap and carry on, but you don't buy tickets or do anything. It's just for show."

Glancing down, I noticed my hands were suspended in mid-clap. Quickly I lowered them into my lap and looked back up at Shya. He was sitting quietly, just waiting. He is the most He is the most arrogant person I have ever seen arrogant person I have ever seen, I thought. Who does he think he is? Who does he think he is?

"Listen, if you want to buy tickets, then buy tickets. If you don't, then don't. But making all that noise is just insulting if you don't really mean it. If you want to buy tickets, then do it for you, not for my approval-or anyone else's, for that matter.

It's time to get honest about what you want."

The truth reverberated through the room. It was quiet. It wasn't forceful. Shaken from a mechanical complacency, suddenly I started to come alive again. The next thing I knew, my legs were taking me to the ticket table, where I bought fi ve.

I didn't know to whom I would give them, but I wanted to buy them because I wanted to, not because it was the right or expected thing to do. Who does he think he is? Who does he think he is? was replaced with was replaced with Who is this guy? Who is this guy?

A year or so later, as I sat behind my receptionist's desk at the chiropractic offi ce where I worked, I looked up to see Shya fi lling out a form of his own. It was the new patient questionnaire. This gave me time to examine him up close. This guy is This guy is quite handsome quite handsome, I thought, as I inspected his short brownish hair and his lean physique, and I must admit the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt revealed a nice pair of forearms. And then, there was the motorcycle. Shya had arrived wearing a brown herringbone-patterned sports jacket, shirt, tie, and helmet. The biker look mixed with the corporate image I defi nitely found enticing.

When Shya left after that initial appointment, my real detective work began. As the door closed behind him, I took my cup of coffee and his chart and did a little research. In Shya's particular case, the new patient information form pro-48 vided both the doctor and me with pertinent facts. I fully planned on reading the questionnaire with entirely different motives than Dr. Don had intended. I wanted to see if Shya was a good candidate for dating, and so I scanned the form. vided both the doctor and me with pertinent facts. I fully planned on reading the questionnaire with entirely different motives than Dr. Don had intended. I wanted to see if Shya was a good candidate for dating, and so I scanned the form.

Hmm . . . forty-one years old. Okay, I can live with that, but what about . . . Great! He's single . . . no communicable diseases, heart problems, etc., etc. Excellent! etc. Excellent!

When it came to the part on the back of the form where it said "Reason for Visit," I was pleased to note that Shya had fi lled in, in a strong distinctive handwriting, "For tight muscles and to relieve stress." Oh good, he's not sick; he's just looking to take Oh good, he's not sick; he's just looking to take care of himself care of himself.

I was happy that Shya's diagnosis called for him to come to the offi ce three times a week for a series of weeks, then twice a week, and so on. He soon became one of the fi rst patients on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and eventually he came early enough to chat, share coffee, and sometimes m.u.f.fi ns.

One particular Friday morning started out normally enough, but something happened that has highlighted that day in my memory and kept it from fading into the shadowy indistinctness of past day-to-day events. The outer door opened on a very gray day, the rain falling in sheets. As I buzzed Shya into the offi ce, I watched as the heavy drops rolled off his face and down the khaki-colored rain slicker. This day was defi nitely not the best for motorcycles or their riders. Shedding his wet outer layer, Shya held up the soggy paper bag that held our coffees.

This had become a morning ritual. By the time he arrived, I was ready for a second cup and a break. I had begun looking forward to his visits.

That morning Shya's face and hands were particularly rosy from the cold, and he held the steaming container of coffee in his cupped hands to soak up some of the warmth. This did nothing to heat his nose or the backs of his hands, and so he teasingly touched his chilly fi ngers to my face. Squealing, I jumped back, a few drops from my cup sloshing over the side and onto my desk. Pulling a tissue to wipe up the spill, I said D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o ! D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o !

49.lightly, "Oh, go away, you. Just be quiet, put your coffee down, take your chart, and go into Room 3. Lie down and wait for the doctor."

An amazing thing happened. Shya set his cup on the counter, and without saying another word, he picked up his chart, turned, and went down the hall, turning the corner and moving out of my line of sight as he made his way to Room 3. He had done exactly as I had asked. The reception area became very still. The coffee steamed on the counter. I could hear the rain pelting down against the window, and the goose b.u.mps on my arms had nothing to do with the storm raging outside or the remembrance of chilly fi ngers on my face.

After a few moments, tossing the tissue in the wicker garbage basket, I quietly followed Shya down the hall and turned the corner so I could look into Room 3. There his chart was, nestled in the Plexiglas door pocket, waiting for the doctor so he could know at a glance whom he was seeing and review the course of treatment. It had surprised me how often I had to chase after patients with their chart and slip it into the door pocket for them, even though it should have become routine for them to take it after the fi rst couple of visits or so. And there was Shya, lying facedown on the chiropractic table, relaxing and waiting for his turn with Dr. Don.

What a curious feeling. I hadn't realized, before that moment, how much people embellished upon or resisted even simple instructions. I couldn't remember people ever simply doing what they were told. I rarely did what I was told, at least not exactly.

For example, in fi fth grade, I came in from recess one bright and sunny spring day, only to be greeted by a lengthy test, which my teacher, Miss Tyler, had devised.

"Okay, cla.s.s," she said. "This is a math test. It is mainly story problems . . ."

I hated her. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

"You will have sixty minutes to fi nish the test, and it will count very heavily toward your overall grade. There will be 50 50 absolutely no talking. Anyone who talks or is found cheating will get an automatic F. Those of you who fi nish early may go outside." absolutely no talking. Anyone who talks or is found cheating will get an automatic F. Those of you who fi nish early may go outside."

Fat chance, I thought. It was cruel of her, in my opinion, to entice us with the great outdoors, because everyone knew that story problems were the bane of all math tests, and now we had several pages to wade through in only one hour.

Miss Tyler faced the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and in her best cursive script wrote, "Be sure to read all of the instructions thoroughly before beginning. You will have sixty minutes." Then, chalk in hand, she pointed to each word, and as if we were morons, she also read them out loud, underlining the word all all. Then she looked at the cla.s.s and smiled. She actually smiled as she said, "Any questions?"

"Okay, children," she announced, glancing at the clock, "Pick up your pencils, turn over your papers, read the instructions, and begin."

Quickly I fl ipped the test over and began. First the instructions: "Be sure to write clearly and legibly" . . . blah, blah, blah.

I quickly scanned the pages to see if I could fi nd a strategy that would let me fi nish the whole thing with a minimum of mistakes and still have a few minutes outside. As if to tease me, the breeze gusted and brought with it all of the fragrant promises of spring. Tightening my resolve, I sat up straight and dove into the pile of questions starting with number one.

I was diligently working through the fi fth problem when Anita, the cla.s.s smarty, put down her pencil, gathered up her test, handed it to Miss Tyler, and went outside. I couldn't believe it. Next John got up, and looking a bit smug, he handed the test in and went to play. One by one, students began fi nishing their tests. My friend, Jan, looked at me with a slightly sheepish grin as she headed out to the playground. I tried not to let it distract me. I was determined to get outside. About this time, Miss Tyler started chuckling, and she was joined by the chuckles of Mr. Miller, the other fi fth-grade teacher, who for D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o ! D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o !

51.some reason had appeared in the front of our room. I found the combined laughter of the two teachers downright disturbing.

"Sshhh!" I found myself saying. I didn't think I would be risking an F for reminding my teachers that we were working here, and besides, "Sshhh!" wasn't exactly talking.

My testy shush and glowering look didn't quite get the response I had expected. Miss Tyler and Mr. Miller suddenly broke into a fi t. They laughed so hard that Miss Tyler began to hold her sides and exclaim, "Oh, Oh, Oh!" We all stopped to stare as they snorted and wiped tears from their eyes.

"Ariel, did you read the instructions?" Mr. Miller asked, while attempting to keep a straight face. Glancing around at the third of the cla.s.s still seated, I protested as only a guilty child can, "Of course I did!"

Actually I hadn't really read the whole paragraph of instructions. I had wanted to get it over with. My noisy, indig-nant protestations brought on a whole new wave of laughing and snorts and "Oh!" and other odd exclamations from Miss Tyler and Mr. Miller.

"Cla.s.s, please put down your pencils," Miss Tyler commanded, and I was about to protest because we still had half an hour left and I wanted to pa.s.s the test, but something in her eye stopped me.

"Ariel, will you please read the instructions to the cla.s.s."

In my best voice, trying to sound as if I actually had read them all, I began, "Be sure to write legibly and clearly. In the margins be sure to show your work. If you get the answer wrong, you will be awarded partial credit for work you did correctly. If you do not show how you arrived at your answers, you will not be credited, even if you get the right answer. Be sure to read all of the questions before you begin. Answer only questions four, thirteen, and thirty. Hand in your paper without talking and then go outside."

"I can't see the rest of you wasting this beautiful day simply because you didn't follow my instructions," Miss Tyler said, 52 52 with a smile that seemed quite kindly now. "Go ahead and go outside with your friends," she continued as she dropped the tests she had collected into the wastepaper basket, "and be sure to throw your tests into the trash before you go." This was one set of instructions I wasn't going to resist. with a smile that seemed quite kindly now. "Go ahead and go outside with your friends," she continued as she dropped the tests she had collected into the wastepaper basket, "and be sure to throw your tests into the trash before you go." This was one set of instructions I wasn't going to resist.

As I quietly returned to the reception desk of the chiropractic offi ce that day, I was as stunned as I had been that time in fi fth grade when I found out that I hadn't followed the instructions. Shya had simply done as he was requested. Why did I fi nd this so remarkable? I replayed my instructions in my mind: Oh, go away, you. Just be quiet, put your coffee down, take your Oh, go away, you. Just be quiet, put your coffee down, take your chart, and go into Room 3. Lie down and wait for the doctor. chart, and go into Room 3. Lie down and wait for the doctor.

Shya hadn't taken that extra sip of coffee, nor had he said, "Okay," or added any other fi ller. He had simply followed my instructions and completely fulfi lled my request. I am not sure why this affected me so deeply, but it did. I was inspired by the economy of his movements and touched that his actions seemed to be without reservation. And I didn't feel like I had been bossing him around either. He simply was responsive to my request, and I felt powerful, listened to, and somehow special.

Once, Shya and I were walking down a street in New York City when he suddenly stopped and whirled around, staring intently at the retreating backs of a couple who had just pa.s.sed us. "Rick, is that you?"

The couple turned around. Rick was a fellow Shya had known while living in Maine, someone he had neither seen nor spoken with in almost fourteen years. Rick, it turns out, was visiting Manhattan from his current home in Washington, D.C., with his girlfriend, Lisa.

Shaking Shya's hand, Lisa said, "I'm glad to fi nally meet you. Rick has told me so much about you."

"In fact, I was just talking about you the other day to one of the CEOs I act as a consultant for," Rick noted. "I was telling him about the time you came to my house for a barbecue. Do you remember it?"

D o n ' t T e l l M e W h a t t o D o !

53.When Shya shook his head, Rick continued, "It was the most amazing thing. I guess it happened about eighteen or twenty years ago. You came to my house early one night when I was preparing dinner for our families and friends, and you asked if there was anything you could help with. I told you that it would be helpful if you could clean the grill, chop a little fi rewood for later, and bring the dishes out to the table. And you know what? You cleaned the grill, chopped a little fi rewood, and brought the dishes out to the table. You didn't change the order in which you did these ch.o.r.es. You didn't add anything.

You just did as I asked. It was almost as if there was a second 'me' out there doing those tasks, and it was an amazing experience I have never forgotten."

Shya's ability to be present made it possible for him to listen to what was being asked of him and then do it. However, the ability to simply follow instructions or fulfi ll a request can be diffi cult for many people for several reasons. Oftentimes people are so busy in their thoughts that they are not really listening, and so it is then virtually impossible to be fully responsive. When you are doing something else, requests are often held as an intrusion or an inconvenient interruption to your plans. When this happens you may do what is asked of you, but your actions are likely to be less than wholehearted. And again, as we discussed in the chapter about hidden agendas, many people have never looked at their childhood decision to be "independent." When this is the case, even simple requests are automatically resisted or embellished upon.

The ability to say "yes" to the requests life makes upon you has far-reaching and profound ramifi cations. When you bring awareness to your automatic "no" without judging yourself for having it, then it loses its power to dominate your life, your life choices, and your relationship (Third Principle). Rather than being taken advantage of, people who learn how to be a "yes" to life's requests become more direct in their actions and in their ability to communicate. They are subsequently more productive, effective, and satisfi ed. On an intimate level, one 54 54 who discovers how to listen to his or her partner and fulfi ll requests will fi nd physical intimacy becomes far easier, more pleasurable, and more fulfi lling. who discovers how to listen to his or her partner and fulfi ll requests will fi nd physical intimacy becomes far easier, more pleasurable, and more fulfi lling.

S U R R E N D E R V E R S U S S U C C U M B.

When discussing being a "yes" to your life, it is important to establish what is meant when we use the terms surrender surrender and and succ.u.mb succ.u.mb and to distinguish between the two. There is a vast difference between surrendering and succ.u.mbing to the requests made upon you by your life and your partner. and to distinguish between the two. There is a vast difference between surrendering and succ.u.mbing to the requests made upon you by your life and your partner. Surrender Surrender is when you take on another's request of you as though it were your own. is when you take on another's request of you as though it were your own. Succ.u.mb Succ.u.mb is when you do what is requested of you and victimize yourself for having to do it. is when you do what is requested of you and victimize yourself for having to do it.

How many times have you said, "Yes, I will," to what is requested of you and then resented that you had to? This is succ.u.mbing. Succ.u.mb Succ.u.mb is when you complain in your thoughts about the injustice of the request and how you are doing it only because they asked it of you, not because you want to. is when you complain in your thoughts about the injustice of the request and how you are doing it only because they asked it of you, not because you want to.

We defi ne surrender surrender as allowing yourself to do what your life requests of you, and sometimes, your life shows up as requests made by your partner. as allowing yourself to do what your life requests of you, and sometimes, your life shows up as requests made by your partner. Surrender Surrender is when you fulfi ll a request as if it were your own idea in the fi rst place, with the intention of having it be a really great idea. This is distinctly different from fulfi lling the request with the intention to prove to your partner that he or she was mistaken or misguided to have asked in the fi rst place. In other words, if you succ.u.mb to a request, you will not have fun and you will be proving him or her wrong. When you succ.u.mb, frequently you will hurt yourself somehow to show your partner just how wrong he or she is. is when you fulfi ll a request as if it were your own idea in the fi rst place, with the intention of having it be a really great idea. This is distinctly different from fulfi lling the request with the intention to prove to your partner that he or she was mistaken or misguided to have asked in the fi rst place. In other words, if you succ.u.mb to a request, you will not have fun and you will be proving him or her wrong. When you succ.u.mb, frequently you will hurt yourself somehow to show your partner just how wrong he or she is.