Living on potential
(and why we insist on ignoring reality)
I have a friend who’s holding on to a relationship that, for quite some time now, has brought her more pain than pleasure — because “he has potential.”
She sees that things aren’t going well, and yet she proclaims: it could get better. If he finally wakes up — and changes. If she can just be more patient.
Listening to her, I remembered when I was still contemplating divorcing from my ex-husband — I was living on potential too.
It was clear our marriage wasn’t heading anywhere new or better. But for a while, I clung to a possible future that, judging by how things were going, wasn’t actually all that possible. I told myself he had potential. That I had already invested so much. That it could get better...
If we communicated more effectively.
If he went to therapy (I was already going).
If I found a way to be more understanding, less critical, more satisfied.
If I became less me to adapt to him — and he became less him to adapt to me.
I wanted the future to be a blank canvas onto which I could project my fantasies, so that’s what I saw. I held on to what might be someday because I was still preparing myself to deal with what was.
How much of our time do we spend waiting for things to improve, for people to change, for a relationship to mature — when, in truth, everything is often pretty clear from the start?
This reflection is an invitation (and maybe a little shake-up) to look at the now with more courage and less fantasy.
People are always telling us who they are and what they want — the problem is, we selectively see what we want to see. We ignore a bunch and distort another bit. But if we’re willing to open our eyes, people always show us how available and invested they truly are. Not always through words, but always through actions.
If he says he wants to build a future with you, but consistently avoids conversations about commitment — that is the conversation.
If he promises to change, to show up differently, but keeps behaving the same way — believe the pattern.
If he says he cares, but disappears when you need support — pay attention to the absence.
If he tells you you're important, but only makes time when it's convenient for him, he’s actions are showing you how much importance you truly hold in his life.
Words can paint ideas of beautiful futures, but actions always tell the truth of the present.
It can be hard to face reality, because we have to then see the other as they are — and accept that they are who they are, not who we hope they’ll become for us. And when we have this kind of clarity, we’re called into responsibility: to choose between staying and accepting what is available (and what is not), or leaving and facing the fear and insecurities of being alone, of starting over, of “failing” in the eyes of society.
And so, many of us live on potential.
Concrete actions — or the lack of them — become irrelevant compared to what could be. If he changes.
Or worse: if I change. If I just do more. Try harder. If I can get him to see. If I can convince him. Save him. Fix things.
It’s incredibly cruel, what we women do to ourselves (taught, of course, through our socialization). We minimize our own suffering by turning a blind eye to what’s hurting us today, feeding ourselves false hope, and convincing ourselves it’s our job to transform the situation — to turn today’s crumbs into tomorrow’s feast.
It’s cruel because it places the full weight of a relationship’s success on us. As if we could be responsible for someone else’s growth — someone who often doesn’t even want to change, but may say they do, just to keep us trying. Just to keep us there.
It’s also wildly grandiose to believe we have the power to change someone just through our own effort.
No one changes because someone else wants them to. It’s already hard enough to change something in ourselves when we genuinely want to, let alone when it’s someone else who wants it for us.
My partner had a coach who used to say, “Potential means you haven’t done anything yet” (which, I’ve since learned, is a quote by Bill Parcells). It might sound a little harsh — but there’s truth in it. What can potential really offer you? Potential won’t love us. Potential won’t celebrate us. Potential won’t hold us when we’re sad or care for us when we are sick. Potential won’t build a life with you.
At some point, we need to stop living on potential — as if it were enough — and start paying attention to what’s actually happening — today, right in front of us. And to what has already been happening until now, because the best way to predict the future is often by looking at the past.
We need to stop wasting the present — which is, ironically, the only place where any real potential can be nurtured and expressed; and refuse to accept crumbs now in the hopes of one day being gifted the whole cake — beautiful, delicious, with our name written on it.
If that cake hasn’t come by now, it’s probably not coming. And if all that’s being offered today are crumbs, we need to admit that the full cake was never really on the table.
It’s not easy to let go of something we’ve poured time, energy, and dreams into. But staying in a place where only promises exist — and not partnership — is a subtle way of dying inside.
Brazilian professor and researcher Valeska Zanello says that “many women marry the marriage itself, not the man.” She points out that we’re socialized to see marriage as proof of our worth — that being chosen by a man is the ultimate form of validation. And so, many of us end up falling in love with the idea of being in a relationship more than with the actual person we’re in it with.
Carried by the desire to belong and fulfill the story we were taught to want — the happy ending in an idyllic home with a picture-perfect family — women often step into marriage without asking the harder questions:
Are care, respect, mutual admiration, and true partnership actually there? Is this man someone who brings joy, support, connection into my life?
It’s hard to dismantle the dreams that come with the idea of love, marriage, and partnership. But we must — so we don’t stay stuck in relationships that are toxic, abusive, or simply unfulfilling, just because we are attached to the idea of being in one.
The price we pay for waiting on someone to finally embody the potential we see in them is high.
Several studies show that marriage tends to benefit men more than women — married men often live longer and report better physical and mental health than their unmarried peers. Women, on the other hand, are more likely to experience a decline in certain health indicators after marriage. In many cases, what is protective for men is depleting for women.
While we hold on to potential, the reality of what’s actually available to us — the lack of support, the invisible labor, the overwork inside and outside the home, the mental load we carry alone — makes us sick. And all the while, it’s the very people we’re waiting on who reap the benefits of our belief in what they could become.
This doesn’t mean there aren’t men with whom we can build relationships rooted in true partnership — men who are not just willing, but happy, to bake us whole and delicious cakes. They exist. And we need to keep that in our hearts, so we don’t keep settling for the ones who make our lives more bitter than sweet.
So, if something in this brought up some discomfort about your relationship, take a moment to return to your senses. And ask yourself, honestly: What is present in this relationship — right now — that truly nourishes me?
If the answer is “very little” — or if that question makes your body tighten or shrink — then maybe reevaluating isn’t failing. Maybe it’s an act of love. For the you of now, and for the you of the future — the one that is truly full of potential that only you can bring to life.
How about you? Have you ever found yourself living on potential?
What helped you see things clearly? What gave you the strength to choose differently?
I’d love to hear your story. Leave me a comment and let’s make this a conversation.
Xo,
Ana Liz
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