Relationships change - and that's okay

Feeling into new realities with old expectations

"I feel like your boyfriend is taking you away from me,” my mom confessed during one of our last dinners in Italy.

My family and I were tucked in the back of a bustling traditional Roman trattoria near the Vatican.

Servers darted between our table, their arms filled with bottles of chianti and woven baskets of focaccia.

JP looked over at my mom. She repeated the statement again, this time in English. “I feel like you’re taking my daughter away from me."

She then quickly added, "I'm just kidding."

It seemed that she wanted to mask the intensity of what she had just said. She continued, "But I do feel like things are changing," her tone softened a bit.

JP and I looked at each other, having sensed a build-up to this moment over the past few days.   

Three eggplant parmesan, cacio e pepe, and prosciutto arrived, and the conversation got tabled.

After dinner, my uncle, aunt, cousin, and mom took a cab back to the Airbnb while JP and I wandered the streets of Rome.

We discussed how we could empathize with my mom’s feelings. JP shared how important he believed it was for me to have an honest conversation with my mom in-person. Though I was unsure what to say or how to start the conversation, I agreed that having a discussion in Italy was better than when we were both back home.

Typically, when my mom and I meet up, we spend concerted time together—almost 24 hours a day, for a week or more. This time was different. We were in a group setting and had to juggle our time together.

My mom and I are uniquely close. Since my parents separated fourteen years ago, I’ve been my mom’s primary confidant. Even though I lived away from home since 18, we’ve managed to speak on the phone almost every day (some days, even multiple times per day). I’ve been my mom’s travel companion, going on trips to Peru, Mexico, Big Sur, Turkey, and all throughout Portugal. We’ve shared every Christmas together (aside from 2020) and always prioritized time to visit one another. 

It’s human nature to get used to how a particular relationship with a close friend or loved one is. Relationships change for all sorts of reasons, however – whether it’s because someone meets a new partner, moves further away, or life circumstances bring us to experience the relationship differently. Though it’s normal for relationships to change (nothing is stagnant, after all) it can still be a period of discomfort.

When people evolve or relationships shift, we experience discomfort, because we’re urged to reconcile new realities with old expectations. This discomfort is referred to as cognitive dissonance. Since the brain loves routines (it reduces cognitive effort and promotes stability through the release of dopamine when things align with our expectations) any changing relationship or shifting circumstances can disrupt this sense of predictability, which can cause anxiety or frustration. Our attachment styles can also affect how we experience perceived changes in relationships. Some of us experience abandonment anxiety, fearing rejection, loneliness, or being left by a loved one. This is usually caused by childhood experiences of neglect, loss, or inconsistency in relationships.

Coping with shifts in relationships isn’t easy—but understanding the psychology behind them can make the experience less daunting, because we’re able to see that we’re tapping into shared human feelings and experiences.

On the final night in Rome, JP and I made our way to dinner, meeting my mom and aunt. I greeted my mom with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, but I immediately noticed she was a bit more reserved than usual.

We made some small talk. JP and I asked about my mom and aunt’s day exploring the ancient city.

A tension danced across our table.

Instinctively, I placed my hand on my mom's. "Mamusiu, I want you to know that my love for you is forever. It's a different kind of love from what I have with JP. But I will always love you."

"I know, Aniu," my mom replied in Polish, her eyes filled with tears.

She sighed audibly, "I've wished for you to find the right type of partner for so long. And I see you so happy and in love. But now that it's happening, it's bringing up all these emotions within me. I didn't feel this way with your past boyfriends, but now something feels different.”

"I'll be okay. It's just something I need to work through," she added.

The un-empathetic part of me felt that my mom should be grateful for the relationship that we’ve had, and all the time that I’d spent with her.

The empathetic side realized that I don’t know what it’s like to be a mother. I don’t know what it’s like being my mother.

My mom’s identity has been deeply intertwined with her role as a mother, and now that I've met my partner and am building a life with him, this change naturally feels more palpable to her. It's a transition I imagine many mothers go through when their children head off to college, relocate to a different city, or celebrate their wedding day.

Though I lived over 2000 miles away in LA for 14 years, the feelings hadn’t fully come to the surface — until now. Perhaps it’s a trifecta of things: my moving to Europe, buying an apartment in Lisbon, and meeting the man I love – all of which tether me to this continent.

While my relationship with my mom will inevitably shift—I might not be able to join her for as many mother-daughter getaways, I might call for advice a little less often, and we may not spend every holiday side-by-side—I will always prioritize time with her. I will always make sure that she knows how important she is to me.

The final morning of our Italian trip, my mom woke up with a different type of energy. She seemed lighter, more exuberant. She apologized for her closed-off behavior and reminded me of how happy she was for me to find someone who loves and cares about me the way JP does.

Though there was some discomfort, our recent Italian experience was a way for my mom and me to learn and grow, both personally and collectively. It was a chance for us to communicate more clearly about what we need, how we feel, and make our relationship deeper and more rewarding.

If there’s someone in your life that’s feeling a shift in your relationship, can you have a conversation about it? Can you remind them how important they are to you?

A film photo of my mom and me, a little blurry, but happy.