The human imagination’s capacity to relieve pain is remarkable. The placebo effect is testament to our ability to make ourselves feel better simply by believing that we are being treated or cared for.
I’ve recently emerged bleary-eyed from a situationship that could be characterised as a seemingly never-ending cycle of eat, sleep, talk-at-great-length-about-change-whilst-resisting-it-in-every-way-possible, repeat. Commitments were usually talked about at a non-specific point in the not-too-distant future, and just enough time was spent together for it to have felt like things were somewhat progressing. And yet every other month there would be the same discussion around the arbitrary factors that were preventing our lives from meaningfully integrating.
In the liminal space post-break up, and in pursuit of an answer to the age-old question of ‘how did I end up here?’, I came across the fantasy bond. A term coined by clinical psychologist Robert Firestone, the fantasy bond occurs when we attach to someone based on how we perceive they could or will be. Like most of our unconscious patterns of relating, the fantasy bond typically originates in childhood as a defence mechanism. As children, our survival depends on our ability to bond with our caregivers. When there is mutual attunement and our needs are met, we feel safe. When the bond is unpredictable or unavailable, we instinctively create psychological defences - such as retreating into fantasy - in order to give ourselves the illusion of being safe. Much like as we have seen with the placebo effect, it seems we are able to feel safer simply by believing that we are being cared for.
Fantasy bonding is not the same as visualising a future with someone, or seeing the potential in a relationship. It’s an historic dynamic in which unhealthy behaviour and unmet needs are disregarded in order to maintain the illusion of safety in a relationship. It could look like someone who maintains the belief there is reciprocity, even when the other person is unavailable and distant. Or it could be the person who holds out on the belief that ‘one day’ the relationship will give them what they actually want.
The Spoon Test
Like all illusions, the fantasy bond thrives in the space between perception and reality. The first step in escaping it is the radical acceptance that ‘there is no spoon’. In the words of The Matrix:
Young Monk: Do not try and bend the spoon—that’s impossible. Instead, only try to realise the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Young Monk: There is no spoon.
When we’re able to accept a person or a relationship on its own terms, we can begin to unpack where reality ends and fantasy begins, and understand how our biases distort how we see things. By accepting that we have been complicit in creating and bending spoons (reality), we can proceed from an informed perspective that is more faithful to the situation at hand.
It’s important to remember that fantasy bonding, like most of our defences, started out as a neat solution to a problem that over time has become the problem itself. In thanking our younger selves for coming up with the best solution that we could at the time, we can begin to heal historic hurts and appreciate the agency we now have as adults to move away from dissociation and fantasy, and towards genuine intimacy and safety.
Until next time,
Kitty
Bookmarks
What I’m reading, watching, listening to right now
The Ask - Ellen Donnelly. The Ask is a coaching service and content platform that helps creatives at every stage of their entrepreneurial career path. I’m not sure that this newsletter would actually exist without Ellen - I worked with her last year as my business coach; she has been instrumental in helping me realise my long term vision for Life Club. Her blog and newsletter are rich resources exploring everything from imposter syndrome and procrastination to risk taking and career planning.
London Writer’s Salon. Continuing with the shout-outs to the people that have helped bring this newsletter to life, London Writer’s Salon is a community of writers who meet virtually for ‘Writer’s Hour’ sprints. I have been joining most days when I can, carving out an hour to read, journal or write before the day’s commotion kicks in.
Winners Wake Up Early - New Yorker Daily Shouts. For some light amusement.
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So honest and insightful, as usual ♥️