I’d never thought about how important Play had been in my romantic relationships, until I had to think about it.
And then it struck me, boom, like a spade to the face.
I remember all those things we did in the beginning. The nickname creative workshops, the new park breakaways, the let’s try cooking this meal together tonight classes, and the I’ll watch your movie if you watch mine negotiations. All of these and so many more, make up the vast store of Playful interactions often experienced in a new relationship.
And then life takes over. Like properly takes over, and some of the first things to disappear belong to the Play toolbox.
And Bleh quietly creeps in, with its cousin, Routine. Routine brings a friend, Not That Again, and before you know it one of you is suggesting a therapist or a counsellor, if you’re lucky.
It’s darn difficult keeping Play alive in a relationship that has some distance in it. It’s especially difficult when one of you wants to open the Play Toolbox and the other, not so much, because playing on your own isn’t a fraction of the fun you have when playing with someone else.
