In the shadow of potential

Dear Michelle,

I've been in a relationship for two years now and I really struggle with getting to the two-year point and the sense of internal urgency to start thinking about commitment. I don't feel ready to commit... nor do I want to leave the relationship. We're best friends. He is seeking therapy to process the past and unlock his emotions. I've been having therapy for a while so I'm naturally more connected to my emotions. I can't help but feel that if the emotional safety and intimacy was there, I'd feel better about commitment. I feel so invested in him finding a good therapist, potentially more than he is because he doesn't yet understand the transformative potential of therapy.

Should emotional safety and intimacy be there from the get-go? Or can I trust my hunch that he can unlock this through therapy whilst we're in a relationship?

Thanks so much Michelle!

Dear Unsure,

It feels like you’re at the tender crossroads of love and longing. It takes so much courage to admit when you’re unsure, to ask the hard questions and sit in the thick of the discomfort instead of rushing for the answers. What you’re feeling is deeply valid: the pull of love and friendship, and the ache for deeper connection on one hand, and the uncertainty and fear of commitment on the other. Let’s sit together for a moment and unpack this messy, beautiful thing you’ve trusted me with.

First, let’s acknowledge the significance of the two-year milestone. It’s likely by now you’ve dropped beneath the intoxicating whirlwind of new romance and infatuation and have landed somewhere deeper, somewhere more real. It’s natural to feel some urgency at this point —society often teaches us that time in a relationship should equate to progress. But relationships are not a clear straight line; they are a journey —an often messy one shaped by the growth of two individuals as much as the actual partnership itself. It’s okay to feel like you’re standing at a crossroads feeling the weight of what comes next, sensing that something crucial may be missing. That tension you feel? It’s your heart whispering (or perhaps shouting), “Pay attention.” Let’s do that.

You asked me if emotional safety and intimacy should be there from the start. The short answer is: not necessarily. Relationships are living, breathing things. They unfold. They deepen. And they require tending to —consistently from all parties. Yes, emotional safety and intimacy are essential for a healthy, vibrant relationship and are the foundations for deeper commitment, but they aren’t always fully present from the start. And emotional safety? It isn’t a thing we stumble upon —it’s something we create and cultivate, brick by brick, word by word, act by act; through mutual trust, vulnerability, and shared effort. But here’s the catch: this work requires two people—equally willing, equally invested, and equally able. Are you both willing, ready, and able to do the work of showing up fully for yourselves and each other?

You’ve already taken bold steps toward creating this for yourself. You’ve sought therapy. You’ve explored your inner world. You’ve laid a foundation of self-awareness that many people don’t reach until much later in life —if ever. That’s a profound gift. And it sounds like your partner is at the beginning of his journey, still learning to unlock the doors you’ve already opened. You love him. I can feel it in your words. But your love cannot do the work for him. He must choose to walk through those doors on his own and it may take him some time to navigate towards them. That hope you’re carrying —that he’ll heal, grow, and open up— is beautiful, but I want to gently ask: how much of this relationship are you holding on your own?

Loving someone who is still finding their emotional footing can feel both tender and heavy —it’s an ever-evolving hope and heartache all at once. When you see their potential so clearly, yet it remains just out of reach, it can feel suffocating, like you’re caught in an endless loop of longing and waiting. That stuckness can bring frustration, resentment, and even self-doubt, leaving you questioning whether you’re asking for too much or holding on too tightly. Sometimes, we find ourselves living in the shadow of potential where we hold on tightly because we believe the potential of what could be is worth the strain of what is. And while hope is a beautiful thing, it’s not a substitute for the kind of emotional safety and intimacy you’re longing for. You deserve to feel held, seen, and met in your relationship —not as a future promise, but as a present reality. It’s the ache of loving someone as they are, while yearning for what and who they could become. We also cannot discount the uncertainty of whether they’ll ever get there on a timeline that aligns with your own. This is the quiet ache of living in the shadow of potential, of ‘almost’. I know this not just through personal experience, but through the thousands of hours I’ve spent with countless others in the last decade and a half of doing this work. The question that gets asked time and time again: Should I stay or should I go?

The reality is: You’re carrying a lot right now. You’re invested in his healing, perhaps more than he is. That’s not a failure on his part, nor is it something for you to fix because it’s not your responsibility. It’s simply where he is. But I invite you to notice the weight of that investment. What does it feel like to be the one holding so much of the hope, the effort, the expectation? Is it sustainable? Is it fair? And is it true to the relationship you want to build? I wonder whether you find yourself consistently giving more than you’re receiving and whether you’re holding space for his healing in a way that leaves little room for your own needs to be met? These are big questions, but they’re worth sitting with.

The truth is: emotional safety is co-created. Both partners must be equally invested in building it. It requires vulnerability, accountability, and a willingness to meet each other where you are. While therapy can absolutely help your partner unlock deeper parts of himself, it’s not a guarantee —and it’s not a process you can control or accelerate, no matter how much you wish you could.

So here’s what I’d invite you to explore: what’s kept you in this relationship? Is it the deep connection you share, the belief in his potential, or perhaps a fear of what stepping away might mean? Ask yourself whether your uncertainty about commitment is tied to his readiness —or to your own feelings about worthiness, safety, or even fear of losing what you’ve built together. Ask yourself what you truly need to feel emotionally safe and connected in this relationship —and whether those needs are being met. Be honest. Be brave. And while you’re at it, consider the future you’re building, both as individuals and as a couple. Are your values aligned? Your timelines? Your visions for a life together? Does it feel right (not perfect, but right) for both of you? These are not easy questions, but they are necessary ones.

There’s no right or wrong answer here. There’s only your truth. But I want you to know this: your readiness for commitment doesn’t hinge solely on his healing. It also depends on your own sense of worthiness —your belief that you’re deserving of the love, safety, and intimacy you crave. You really are. And remember: love isn’t just about potential, it’s about the partnership in the present. It’s not about whether he can meet you there someday, but whether he’s willing and able to meet you there now, even in the smallest of ways. Because you deserve to experience emotional safety and intimacy here and now, in real time.

A gentle reminder about the knowing that’s already within you: while love is about the give and take, the willingness to show up fully, flaws and all, emotional safety is a shared effort, a dance between two people who are committed to growing together. It’s not a solo project and you don’t need to keep taking responsibility for it all.

From your letter, I know you’ve got the courage to ask these questions, Unsure. You’ve got the self-awareness to hold space for the answers. Trust yourself. Trust your intuition. And trust that whatever you decide, you are already enough.

A gentle reminder that you are allowed to take your time. You are allowed to hold space for your partner’s growth while also honoring your own needs, boundaries, and your vision for your life. And you are allowed to choose a path —whether it’s together or apart— that feels aligned with the life and love you know you deserve.

You’ve already shown so much courage in asking these questions. Trust yourself to keep listening to the answers that arise.

With love and hope,
Michelle.