Is Asking One Person to Be Everything Actually Loving?
TikTok video from 2022-09-01
We grow up hearing the same practical advice over and over again:
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.
It applies to money. Careers. Plans. Friendships. Even emotional investment. The idea is: don’t place your whole future, happiness, or identity into one thing—because if that thing falls apart, you’re left with nothing. Makes sense, right?
And yet…
When it comes to romantic love, that rule just vanishes.
Suddenly we’re supposed to find one person who becomes the basket. The only basket. The everything. They’re meant to be your best friend, your greatest lover, your therapist, your travel companion, your co-parent, your financial teammate, your caretaker when you’re sick, your emotional support human, and the one you sleep next to for the rest of your life.
I mean, is it any wonder people are struggling in relationships?
How did we get here—where asking one person to meet every need we have is not only normalized, but romanticized? And what happens when they can’t?
Because the truth is, most of us aren’t compatible in all those ways. And maybe that’s not a failure. Maybe it’s just human.
After 35 years of marriage, I’ve learned that expecting my husband to be all those things to me—to show up in every emotional, sexual, logistical, spiritual, and practical way—wasn’t just unrealistic. It was a kind of quiet cruelty. It asked too much of him. And too much of me.
There are areas where we’re incredibly compatible. For instance:
When I’m sick? He’s amazing. He swoops in, takes care of me, brings the soup, tucks me in, and knows exactly how to be nurturing and present. I love being taken care of when I’m sick, so it’s a perfect fit.
When he’s sick? He wants to be left the hell alone. Like, do not speak, do not touch, do not check in. And that works too—because I don’t want to take care of someone when they’re sick. Not in that way. So again—perfect fit.
But other areas? Not always as synced. There have been seasons where our sex drives didn’t line up. Where our emotional needs weren’t speaking the same language. Where our dreams for what comes next pulled in different directions.
And this is the part that I think doesn’t get talked about enough:
What happens when you love someone deeply… and still need more?
Not more love. But more support—more connection in certain areas. More excitement. More conversation. More exploration. Not because your partner isn’t enough, but because one person was never meant to be the whole answer.
Yet that’s what we’re taught to expect.
We’re handed this big, impossible relationship fantasy:
That the one will complete us, satisfy us, challenge us, comfort us, understand us, turn us on, raise our children, run the household, and inspire us—all while holding our hand through every hardship until the very end.
It’s beautiful. It’s poetic. It’s also... a little dangerous.
Because when we do find someone we love—and we will—we can start asking them to carry more than they’re built to hold.
And when they can’t… we make it mean something about them. Or us. Or our worth. Or our marriage.
But maybe it doesn’t mean any of that.
Maybe it just means they’re a blender, not a food processor.
They’re the perfect person for some things. But not everything. And that’s okay.
That’s where this idea starts to shift for me:
What if the most loving thing we could do for someone is to not expect them to be everything?
What if real intimacy comes from saying:
“I love you for who you are, and I’m not going to put you through the pressure of being all things to me.”
That’s a big part of why polyamory has been such a loving and liberating shift in my life.
It’s not about chasing novelty or filling holes.
It’s about relieving pressure.
It’s about letting my husband be exactly who he is, and still getting to explore other parts of myself—with other people who genuinely enjoy those things.
And I know polyamory isn’t for everyone. But I do think this part is:
You don’t have to ask one person to be your everything in order to build a lasting, loving life together.
You don’t have to sacrifice your needs for the sake of romantic idealism.
You can love someone fully and still need fulfillment in other areas.
That’s not betrayal. That’s truth.
And choosing to stay in a relationship where someone can’t meet every need, but you still choose them anyway—that’s love too.
So I’m just wondering out loud with you:
What if not putting all your eggs in one basket… applies to love, too?
