Chapter 1: Understanding Relationship Patterns

It happened once more. A heart shattered due to infidelity. Just like her previous boyfriend, he had not confessed; she discovered the truth from a questionable charge on their shared credit card. After confronting him, he admitted to the betrayal, and she ended the relationship in tears. She had warned him about her long history with unfaithful partners, stating she couldn’t endure another act of deceit. Yet, here she was, in the same predicament…

Then there's the friend who called again at 11:30 PM after her boyfriend confessed he no longer loved her and couldn’t bear to stay another night. This marked the fourth time a similar situation had transpired, and she was incredulous it had happened yet again.

Or consider the woman who mustered the courage to leave six months after moving in with a boyfriend who began verbally abusing her the moment she unpacked her boxes. She wondered why every relationship spiraled into a cycle of abuse that seemed to emerge from nowhere.

What should we say to these women? Should we offer them sympathy? Share our own tales of woe? Invite them over for ice cream and a feel-good movie?

Unfortunately, the societal response is often reduced to a single question: the "common denominator" inquiry.

We don't ask if she will be okay or what support she needs. Instead, we pose the question of what connects all these relationships.

And then we jump to a conclusion: You, we tell her. The answer is you.

In discussing women's repeated negative experiences in heterosexual relationships, we often overlook the mathematical principles at play. We forget that "common denominators" can have multiple interpretations.

The specificity we seek in this context, akin to finding the lowest common denominator in mathematics, is often misapplied. We treat it as if it refers to a single entity—the glaring reason for repeated issues.

Yet, shouldn’t we approach this situation with greater honesty? Aren’t we ethically bound to identify all the common denominators instead of insisting there’s just one?

For instance, can we ignore that men are also a common denominator in these relationships? We exist in a dominance hierarchy where societal conditioning influences behaviors that uphold this structure. Is it reasonable to disregard the effects of a patriarchal culture that encourages men to view women as mere objects?

Moreover, all these instances of betrayal and heartache take place within a societal framework that promotes the idea of male superiority. Are we truly suggesting that this context has no impact on these recurring relational patterns?

In a culture that prides itself on logic and numbers, our reasoning seems flawed.

When I hear cishet men lament about a series of relationships marked by similar pain, their narratives often depict their ex-partners as either "crazy" or "controlling."

This situation makes it difficult to discern the truth, as both labels are rooted in sexist stereotypes and delivered in a misogynistic manner. While there may have been legitimate issues with the women involved, I find it hard to believe that someone who readily resorts to misogyny isn’t also contributing significant problems.

Regardless of who holds blame, one crucial fact remains: a man bemoaning his string of unfortunate relationships is seldom told to look in the mirror, to recognize himself as the common denominator. Society is more inclined to accept his narrative, which is easily digestible in a patriarchal setting. His relationship troubles are attributed to the “crazy” or “controlling” nature of women—a common trope in a misogynistic culture.

Collectively, we extend sympathy and understanding to a heartbroken man, often allowing him space without demanding self-reflection.

In contrast, a woman facing a similar plight is held accountable and expected to engage in self-improvement to alter the patterns in her romantic life.

? + ? = X. For decades, I've been attempting to solve for X, and my findings consistently point to the same outcomes: disaster, desolation, trauma.

I know countless women who have arrived at similar conclusions.

Intellectually, I recognize that a few rare individuals manage to navigate this equation and emerge positively. So why do many of us repeatedly find ourselves in dismal situations?

Is it us? Is it our fault? Should we accept the idea that we are the common denominator, even after years of growth, wisdom, and therapeutic healing?

I once believed this. I committed to therapy and introspection, driven by the desire to heal from romantic trauma and unhealthy dynamics.

However, through therapy and life experiences, I have reached a more nuanced conclusion. The dynamics of heterosexual relationships do not operate in isolation—neither do the individuals within them. Our interactions are heavily shaped by cultural conditioning and prior experiences.

Women in patriarchal societies learn that their worth is tied to having a male partner. From a young age, we absorb messages instructing us on how to look, act, and communicate to please men. We’re often labeled as overly sensitive or unstable, and we’re expected to be grateful for any male partner willing to tolerate us.

Moreover, once in a relationship, women are often led to believe that their bodies belong to their partners, with no room for discomfort or refusal. A "good" partner is expected to fulfill their partner's sexual needs without question.

If a man manipulates, berates, or even assaults us, the prevailing narrative suggests we are either too sensitive or somehow invited this treatment.

Additionally, it’s well-established that heterosexual marriage tends to favor men while disenfranchising women. As Paul Dolan, a professor of behavioral science, aptly stated: “If you’re a man, you should probably get married; if you’re a woman, don’t bother.”

Is it any surprise that women might repeatedly face hardships in heterosexual relationships?

And let me be clear: being a common denominator in these circumstances does not equate to her fault.

If we insist that the misfortunes within heterosexual relationships are the female partner's doing, what are we advocating as a solution? We talk about “looking in the mirror” and “taking responsibility for one’s emotional baggage,” implying self-improvement efforts, either independently or with therapeutic assistance.

Statistics reveal that 55% of individuals in therapy are women striving for personal growth or working through troubled relationships. Moreover, women are more likely to engage with self-help literature than men.

Once again, the math doesn’t add up. If we consider the numbers, it’s evident that women are making substantial efforts to better their circumstances. Given this, blaming women feels disingenuous, if not a calculated strategy.

This perspective doesn’t imply that men are solely to blame. We must embrace complexity—the binary approach is what led us into this mess.

If we are to assign blame, let’s direct it toward the systemic oppression we navigate.

Until we can dismantle these systems, perhaps we can extend more compassion to women striving to navigate situations that often lead to disempowerment and heartache. Let's abandon the notion that she is the common denominator.

Perhaps it’s time to celebrate the women who bravely continue to invest in heterosexual relationships, who choose to trust men despite their past experiences. What if we shifted our focus from labeling them as the problem to recognizing their strength and resilience?

© Y.L. Wolfe 2024

(Please be aware that numerous scammers are impersonating me — I do not solicit readers in the comments section.)

Y.L. Wolfe is a gender-curious, solosexual, perimenopausal, childless crone-in-training, exploring these experiences through writing, photography, and art. You can find more of her work at yaelwolfe.com. If you appreciate her writing, consider leaving a tip at Ko-fi.

More on heterosexual relationships:

Monogamy Isn’t Working — Not the Way We Do It

But don’t worry — I’ve got a paradigm shift for you…

Detoxing from Heterosexuality

Why I’m in relationship rehab