The weight of expectations in relationships: philosophy and happiness
Why do we expect so much from others… and so little from ourselves?
It’s a simple question, but one with profound consequences. Everyday life is full of it: we expect our partner to grasp our silences at once, a friend to get in touch “without our having to ask”, a colleague to be more appreciative, our children to be always grateful, the world to notice us.
Meanwhile, our expectations of ourselves seem to grow fainter. We let ourselves off for everything we give up, we procrastinate, we tell ourselves that “nothing changes anyway” or that “it isn’t worth it”.
Why?
The long shadow of disappointment
According to many psychologists, the mechanism hidden behind this imbalance has to do with a subtle, chronic form of mistrust: mistrust in ourselves, often disguised as overcontrol of others.
As if we were saying, unconsciously: “I can’t change my life, but if you behaved the way I want, then I could be happy”. In this sense, expectations become a form of emotional dependence.
The philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said that “hell is other people”. Perhaps because we project our own shortcomings onto others, turning them into mirrors that give back only what we lack.
Is expecting easier than acting?
Deep down, there is something human — and understandable — in this process. Expecting something from others is, in a sense, easier than taking responsibility for acting ourselves. Especially when we are afraid of failing.
This is where self-esteem and inner security come into play. When we don’t feel capable or up to the task, we delegate. But the more we delegate, the more powerless we feel. It’s a vicious circle.
As Carl Rogers, the founder of the person-centred approach, suggests, every human being carries within a natural drive towards growth. But this drive can be stifled by an environment that judges, conditions, demands. And so we begin to make demands in our turn. And to stop believing we can manage on our own.
Delegated happiness
And so expectations also become a form of undeclared emotional blackmail. If you do that thing, then I’ll feel better. If you change, then I’ll be happy. It is a way of binding the other person to us without fully taking responsibility for our own life.
But what happens when the other person doesn’t respond? Disappointment, frustration, anger. And sometimes even a depressive feeling. Not because we are depressed in the clinical sense, but because a rift between desire and reality has opened up inside us, one we no longer know how to bridge.
Cultural roots
Asking whether this mechanism is universal is just as interesting. My experience — and here I’m asking you too, reader — suggests that the weight of expectations varies a great deal from culture to culture. In some collectivist societies (like many in Asia or Africa), expectations of others are more regulated and more accepted, but also more socially codified. In more individualist cultures (like ours), expectations become more invisible, more ambiguous… and heavier.
We expect others to sense, understand, welcome… without our saying anything. But often the other person is shut inside their own world of expectations. And so we misunderstand each other, we drift apart, we end up disappointed. And alone.
A way out
Perhaps the key lies in a balance to be found again: between what it is fair to expect from others (and to say so openly) and what we need to take back as our own task.
Happiness is not something others owe us. Nor is it something we can feel shut out of for ever. It is, rather, a daily practice, one that requires clarity, freedom and a little courage. The courage to stop waiting.
And to start living.
A question for you
Have you ever expected something without saying so, and ended up disappointed? What would you have liked to be able to ask for? Tell us in the comments, without including names or private details of other people.
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