To be in relationship is to step into a boxing ring. We take blows and dish them out. We pivot left and right. In the first few rounds, we perform all kinds of fancy footwork to impress our partner.

In the thick of trying to make things work – fulfill a partner’s needs or advocate for our own – a tenth-round knockout can feel inevitable. But nobody sees this when the opening bell rings.

Instead, we move out eagerly into the arena, sizing up a new prospect or excited to re-ignite the flame of an old relationship.

Hopeful of victory and open to possibility, we’ve forgotten all prior matches. Blind to the old blows we’ve absorbed, focused on the moment before us.

The prospect of Love and Eros fills us. And we live the invigorating truth, that love is blind.

• Blind to the hooks, jabs, and knockout punches.
• Blind to the heartbreak, overwhelm, and grief.
• Blind to the invisibility and gut-wrenching aloneness.

But each time, we think — This time, it will be different.

Yes, love is blind. And thank god for that.  Would anyone step into the ring, if it wasn’t?

And yet, if we had better training, we’d shift our fighting strategy to: How can I step into the ring wiser and more connected to my strengths?

But blinded by love, we inevitably find ourselves mystified, knocked against the ropes again, absorbing hooks and jabs that we didn’t see coming.

And then we wonder, whether we want to stay in the ring at all.

• Is this working? Am I happy?
• Is he the one I want to spend my life with?
• Is she my true love?

From here, we go to “with or without you” scenarios. Imagining it both ways, the pros and cons, threshing through our fears.

Monkey mind steps in as an inadequate trainer, attempting to correct the stance and footwork of an inexperienced heart-warrior.

In our deficits – of sadness, fear, not enough-ness – many of us leave the ring before the first-round closing bell sounds. We project our fears. Things get scary.

He’s crazy. She’s neurotic. Screw this.

And some of us hang in there, surrendering all skilled movement “in the name of love,” allowing ourselves to get battered and beaten until the other person throws in the towel.

I love him. I can’t leave her. If he leaves me, then I’ll accept it’s over.

Stick it out and fight? Or leave the ring altogether? How do you know?

We never know – until the moment arrives. There is no manual on this. Only more and more training.

We get beat up to learn how to love. We step into the ring to expand our capacity. It’s how we learn. We get beat up better and wiser. We get more efficient with our techniques. Stronger at absorbing the blows. More judicious with throwing them.

The training requires one thing above all: Self-attunement. To listen deeply within. To trust our self when an inner voice says, “Step right. Move left. Pull back. Keep space. Approach. Make contact. Connect. Get fierce. Love.”

You may have seven lives in your marriage. Or twelve partners before “the one”. The training is lifelong. And you are a relationship-warrior.

To discover my training approach, check out my best-selling book, if you haven’t already. Essentially subtitled, when to step into the ring and when to step out, the book asks:

• How do I step into the ring more wisely?
• Show up fully for the rigors of love?
• And know when it’s time to throw in the towel?

These are the teachings of the committed relationship warrior.

That’s you. Relationship Warrior, you got this! Spread the word.

Use the icons below to share on your Facebook page or Twitter feed.

Like what you’ve read? Sign up below or to the right to get more.