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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.
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