The whole truth can sometimes be too much, says Simran Mangharam

It is almost impossible to form a deep bond without being authentic. When it comes to romantic relationships, authenticity is a prerequisite. One cannot have a bond endure over time, and remain healthy, without this.

Now, some well-meaning partners confuse authenticity with unbridled honesty, and I don’t mind putting this bluntly: sometimes, for the sake of the relationship and the other person, one simply has to bend the truth a little.

This is usually done to avoid hurting the other person (“Someone at work just said my singing voice is ‘unbearable’. Do you think it is?” “Of course not, honey.” Don’t pause. Don’t think. There is no other answer.)
But sometimes, it can be prudent to hold something back so as not to overwhelm the other person.
A 32-year-old client of mine, let’s call him Manav, is a lawyer in Delhi. He is in love with a 33-year-old advertising executive who watched her parents’ marriage fall apart and resolved, early on, to never marry. They have been in a relationship for two years. Manav believes he can change her mind. He also says he knows that his only hope of doing so is to avoid mentioning the m-word at all.
But it’s getting harder and harder not to broach the subject, he says.
He believes that their healthy, loving relationship is helping her heal. She still vociferously criticises couples who decide to head down the aisle. He refrains from commenting, at these times. He believes she will eventually see how different their marriage would be to her parents’. And I wish him luck. I have seen this approach work successfully a number of times.
Patience, prudence and unconditional love can be a powerful combination.
Meanwhile, in Mumbai, 42-year-old design professional Alia and 44-year-old finance executive Usman have been married for a decade. He has three siblings, also in Mumbai, and yet all caregiving for his parents falls to him and his wife.
It upsets Alia terribly that his siblings do not share the emotional, physical and financial burden of this care, but she has decided that she cannot talk to Usman about how she feels. She doesn’t want to upset him and make him feel more alone.
She did try suggesting, once, that one of his siblings could help look after his ailing father, when they were finding it particularly difficult to juggle it all. Usman responded by saying that he didn’t want his parents to have someone around who had not stepped forward themselves.
She still feels the unfairness of this, but has decided that there is not much more she can do. Over the years, she has worked hard with her counsellor to accept this situation. She is now trying to see it as an indication of how committed and caring her husband is.
I worry that this issue may still rear its head and threaten the peace of their relationship. But I believe Alia and Usman, given how much love and understanding there is between them, would find ways to weather such a storm.
How does one decide, then, what kind of issue to speak up about, and which ones to stay silent on? That’s a column for another day. Stay tuned for it and, meanwhile, be kind to one another.
(Simran Mangharam is a dating and relationship coach and can be reached on [email protected])