The Weight of Unspoken Words

Somewhere, right now, somebody is waiting for a millionaire.

Not metaphorically.

An actual millionaire

He will be successful, emotionally intelligent, generous, attractive, interesting, well travelled, preferably tall, impeccably dressed, financially secure and inexplicably available.

He will arrive already assembled. She, meanwhile, has been asked what she intends to bring to this extraordinary arrangement.

“Me“.

Ah.

There is confidence.

And then there is expecting somebody who has spent 20 years building an exceptional life to regard your mere arrival as an equivalent investment.

This isn’t exclusively a female problem. Men construct equally ambitious fantasies: expecting someone considerably younger, exceptionally attractive, endlessly supportive and sexually exciting while offering very little beyond the conviction that they “deserve a good woman.”

Different shopping list.

Same mathematics.

Expectation without contribution is entitlement wearing perfume.

And modern relationships have developed quite a lot of it.

Everybody wants the upgrade

There is nothing wrong with having standards.

Want intelligence. Want kindness. Want attraction. Want financial stability. Want ambition. Want somebody whose life excites you.

But there is a question strangely absent from many lists of requirements:

Why would that person choose you?

Not why should they. Why would they?

That’s a very different question.

We have become extraordinarily comfortable evaluating other people’s market value while becoming surprisingly offended when our own enters the conversation.

He’s not successful enough. She’s not attractive enough. He doesn’t earn enough. She’s too old. He’s boring. She has baggage. He lacks ambition. She isn’t sophisticated enough.

Fine. Preferences are preferences.

But if you’re applying stringent selection criteria to everyone entering your life, Eventually somebody gets to assess the application from the other side of the desk.

The Millionaire Problem

Let’s return to our millionaire.

First, there aren’t unlimited numbers of them.

Second “millionaire” synonymous with handsome, single, emotionally available, heterosexual man of your preferred age living conveniently within twenty miles.

Third, The genuinely desirable wealthy single man isn’t sitting in a warehouse waiting to be allocated.

Other women have noticed him.

Many of them are attractive. Some are very successful themselves. Some are highly educated. Some are socially connected. Some move naturally within his professional and social circles. Some understand his lifestyle because they already live something resembling it.

And this is where romantic fantasy encounters something sociologists have studied for decades: assortative mating.

Despite the popular mythology of the billionaire sweeping the ordinary stranger into his helicopter, people frequently form long-term partnerships with people broadly resembling themselves in education and socio economic position. Research across several Western countries has found positive educational assortative mating: People tend, statistically, to pair with people from similar educational strata.

Cross-class relationships obviously happen.

Rich people marry people who aren’t rich. Doctors marry receptionists. Executives fall in love with teachers.

Human attraction has never consulted a spreadsheet before kissing somebody.

But possible is not the same as probable.

Cinderella Has Distorted the Data.

People have been culturally trained to love exceptional outcomes.

Cinderella doesn’t marry the reasonably pleasant assistant manager from the neighbouring village.

She gets the Prince.

Pretty Woman doesn’t conclude with Vivian developing a successful independent career and meeting an accountant three years later.

Edward arrives.

Stories work because exceptional things happen in them.

But exceptional outcomes become psychologically dangerous when we use them as statistical forecasts.

“But my friend’s cousin married a millionaire.”

Wonderful.

Somebody also wins the lottery.

That doesn’t make buying scratch cards a retirement strategy.

The question isn’t whether a wealthy man can fall in love with an ordinary income woman. Of course he can.

The question is whether waiting to be selected by an unusually desirable person constitutes a sensible strategy for improving your life.

It doesn’t.

Particularly when you’ve invested very little in becoming unusually desirable yourself.

The Competition Nobody Mentions

Online dating has made this distortion worse because it creates the appearance of abundance.

Hundreds of faces. Thousands of profiles. Potentially unlimited choice.

But seeing someone isn’t the same as having access to them.

And wanting somebody doesn’t place you in competition only with your immediate neighbours.

A highly desirable person may have an enormous potential dating pool.

So imagine thousands of people independently specifying:

Educated. High income. Attractive. Emotionally mature. Available.

We aren’t describing an average person anymore.

When narrowing the pool while increasing the competition for everybody remaining inside it.

And then comes the uncomfortable bit:

What makes you competitive within that pool?

Kindness? Lovely. Millions of people are kind.

A sense of humour? Excellent. Get in line.

“I’ve got a lot of love to give”?

So has every Labrador in Britain. The point isn’t to reduce human beings to commodities. It’s the opposite.

A genuinely valuable relationship requires two whole people bringing something worthwhile into it.

Investment Wants Investment

Someone has spent decades developing themselves.

They’ve built financial security developed professional competence. Learned to communicate. Looked after their health. Cultivated interest. Created friendships. Built a home. Travelled. Read. Made mistakes. Recovered. Learned how to function independently.

Why is it arrogant for that person to want someone who has also done some building?

Yet sometimes we expect a high investment partner while presenting ourselves as a renovation project.

“I want someone financially secure.”

Are you?

“I want someone ambitious”

What are you building?

“ I want someone interesting.”

What interests have you developed?

“I want somebody emotionally mature”.

How do you behave during conflict?

“ I want somebody who looks after themselves.”

Do you?

“I want someone generous.”

What do you give?

That’s where standards become mirrors.

The Unspoken Contract

Many expectations are never actually spoken.

Someone enters a relationship carrying an invisible contract.

You’ll improve my lifestyle. You will heal my insecurities. You’ll provide excitement. You will make me feel attractive. You’ll pay for experiences I cannot afford. You’ll motivate me. You’ll introduce me to interesting people. You’ll rescue me from the life I’ve built.

The other person hasn’t seen this contract.

They certainly haven’t signed it.

Yet disappointment arrives when they fail to fulfil it.

This is the weight of unspoken expectations.

Sometimes we want another human being to compensate for everything we haven’t created ourselves.

A partner becomes our financial plan, therapist, social secretary, motivational coach, status symbol and evidence that our life turned out well.

That’s an enormous job description for someone who thought they were coming to dinner.

What Are You Building?

The healthier question isn’t: How do I attract a millionaire?

It’s:

What kind of life am I constructing whether anybody arrives or not?

Want to travel? Build towards travelling.

Want financial security? Start creating it.

Want interesting conversations? Become interested in things.

Want someone accomplished? Accomplish something.

Want access to different social circles? Develop interests, education, work and activities that genuinely take you into them.

Want confidence? Do difficult things without waiting for somebody to applaud.

Suddenly you’re no longer standing at life’s arrival’s gate holding a sign saying:

Successful Person Required To Upgrade Existing Situation.

You’re moving.

Movement itself changes who you meet.

Standards Should Cost Something

Perhaps standards aren’t the problem.

Perhaps cost-free standards are.

If you want an exceptional relationship, There should be some expectation that you’ve invested in becoming capable of sustaining one.

Not perfect. Not rich. Not beautiful. Not socially elite.

But engaged with your own development.

A person can have very little money and enormous value: curiosity, reliability, warmth, competence, humour, courage, self respect, resourcefulness, emotional stability, loyalty and purpose.

These things require investment too.

The problem isn’t an average income woman wanting a wealthy man or an average looking man wanting a beautiful woman.

Love routinely ignores neat categories.

The arrogance lies in assuming that another person’s exceptional qualities somehow create an entitlement to benefit from them.

They don’t.

Admiration isn’t qualification.

Wanting access to what somebody built isn’t the same as having helped build something worth sharing with them.

Turn the List Around.

Write down everything you expect from a partner.

Successful. Attractive. Fit. Kind. Educated. Financially secure. Interesting. Loyal. Ambitious. Emotionally intelligent. Generous.

Looking outward.

Turn the page around.

If somebody possessing all those qualities were sitting opposite you with an equally demanding list –

How many boxes would you tick?

Not according to your mother.

Not according to your best friend.

Not according to your affirmations.

According to evidence.

That question isn’t designed to humiliate anyone.

It’s liberating.

Because instead of waiting for a millionaire, it gives you something you can actually influence.

You.

Stop Waiting to Be Chosen

The greatest danger of unrealistic expectations isn’t remaining single.

Its remaining stationary.

Waiting for someone wealthier. More connected. More confident. More experienced. More exciting. More successful.

Someone who will somehow pull you into the life you believe you deserve.

And while you’re waiting to be chosen, other people are building the qualities you find attractive.

They’re studying. Working. Saving. Travelling. Creating. Learning. Taking risks. Getting rejected. Recovering.

Becoming. Perhaps that’s the expectation worth changing.

Don’t expect less from a partner.

Expect more from yourself.

Build enough of your own life that another person’s arrival is an addition rather than evacuation plan.

Have standards.

Have ambitions ones.

Fall madly in love with the millionaire if one happens along.

But don’t sit around waiting for somebody exceptional to rescue you from the consequences of remaining ordinary by chance.

If you expect someone extraordinary to invest in you, start by becoming someone who understands the cost of investment.

And perhaps the most important relationship question isn’t:

“What do I deserve.”

Its:

“What am I bringing?”