why relationships should complement, not complete

There was a time when I believed that being loved meant being saved.

That the right person would come along and fix all the broken pieces. That the right friend, partner, mentor, someone, would finally see me, fill the empty parts, and make everything make sense.

And for a while, I chased that. Not consciously. But quietly. In the background of how I showed up in relationships. Wanting to be chosen so I could finally feel enough. Wanting to be needed so I could feel valuable. Wanting someone else to reflect back to me what I hadn’t yet learned to see in myself.

It’s an easy story to believe, especially when we’re raised on fairy tales and romantic comedies and messages that glorify being “completed” by someone else. That idea gets under your skin. The belief that if you just find the right relationship, everything will fall into place.

But here’s what I now know. The relationships that change your life aren’t the ones that complete you.

They’re the ones that see you. That honour your wholeness. That support your growth instead of trying to become your foundation.

Whether it’s friendship, family, romance, or something in between, the healthiest relationships are not about filling your gaps. They’re about walking beside you while you keep becoming.

Because the truth is, nobody can complete you. That idea might sound romantic, but it’s rooted in disconnection. It assumes you are missing something. It assumes you are not already whole.

But you are.

You are already enough. Already worthy. Already home to yourself, even if you’re still learning how to feel that truth.

And the best relationships? They don’t take that away from you. They don’t make you question your worth or twist yourself into someone you’re not just to be accepted.

They remind you of your own voice, your own wisdom, your own centre. They reflect your light without becoming the source of it. They add beauty and depth and softness to your life, but they don’t define it.

Because you can love someone deeply and still know where you end and they begin.

You can support your partner without abandoning yourself.

You can show up for your friends without over-extending your energy to stay needed.

You can be held by others without collapsing into them.

And that’s the difference.

A relationship that complements you brings more colour to your already vibrant life. It’s a mirror, not a mould. It supports your expansion, not your shrinking. It challenges you to grow while holding space for where you are.

That kind of love, platonic or romantic, doesn’t require you to forget yourself to be close to someone else. It invites you to be even more yourself.

Of course, this isn’t always easy. Especially if, like many of us, you were raised in environments where love was conditional. Where closeness came with self-abandonment. Where you learned to shape-shift in order to stay connected.

In those environments, it made sense to seek completion in someone else. It made sense to believe you were too much or not enough, and that someone else’s love could fix that.

But healing means we begin to question those patterns.

It means we start to notice where our connections feel like home and where they feel like pressure.

It means we learn to pause before pouring too much of ourselves into people who don’t have the capacity to meet us.

And it means we begin to redefine what we want relationships to feel like.

Not like dependence. Not like survival. But like something so much more than that. Safe. Steady.

Not a cure, but a companion.

Not a patch, but a partner.

Not someone to complete you, but someone who deeply respects that you were never incomplete to begin with.

So if you’re in a season where your relationships are shifting, if you’re grieving a friendship that no longer fits, or re-evaluating a partnership, or simply coming back to your own centre, please know that this is part of the work.

The more you connect with yourself, the more you’ll crave relationships that reflect that version of you. The one who knows they are already whole. The one who no longer needs to be saved to feel safe. The one who can hold their own hand and still open it to another’s.

Relationships should complement, not complete.

And when you find those ones, the ones that honour your full self instead of trying to shape you into someone else, they feel like breathing.

Not because they fill you up.

But because they meet you where you already are.

And that, to me, is the most beautiful kind of love.

With love & support,

Shorina | Mindful Soul Collective

Holistic Counsellor, Wellbeing Coach & Business Mentor

---

If this resonated, I’d love to support you further! You’ll find everything you need, from free resources to information on working with me, right here.