Dear Ada:

“Part of my resentment towards Sam stems from not feeling like he truly values who I am — reserved, conservative, introspective.”-

Ada, your honesty here is powerful. I wonder if the ache you describe might be less about Sam not valuing those parts of you, and more about you not fully valuing them yourself. When we stand firm in our own quiet strengths—our thoughtfulness, our depth, our sensitivity—the need to be seen and affirmed by another softens. It doesn’t vanish, but it stops feeling like proof of worth.

Growth doesn’t mean becoming like Sarah, of course. Growth might mean celebrating the elegance of your own inner rhythm. And maybe, gently, allowing it to take up more space in your relationship—not with loudness, but with certainty.

You don’t need to abandon who you are to be loved well. You only need to stand where you are and decide that it’s enough.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Sam’s behavior hasn’t contributed to the discomfort—it’s possible that both are playing a role. But I wonder if anchoring more deeply in your own self-worth might ease some of the ache around being seen.

🤍 Anita

Dear Ada,

happy to hear from you! I’m glad you’re getting more clarity and are realizing that it’s okay to stand up for yourself and your core values:

I want to treat my partner as a true equal and try to understand him as I understand myself, but ultimately, I have to prioritize my own voice.

I really just need to be more confident that I’ll be able to defend what’s good for me.

You also say you lack self-esteem:

In general I do struggle with self-esteem and try very hard to see things from other peoples’ perspectives, especially in intimate relationships.

Yes, I’ve noticed that. You are trying your best to understand and accommodate Sam. And I’m glad you’re realizing that this accommodating is okay up to a certain point, but when it crosses over into self-negation and neglecting your own (legitimate) needs and boundaries, that’s when it becomes problematic.

I would be okay with him maintaining his friendship with Sarah if we came to a shared understanding of boundaries. I would not want to enforce boundaries for him that he does not agree with. While I know he would do it for me, he’d be doing it for me.

So what if he were to do it for you? Let me give you an example: let’s say the woman is a bit of an anxious type and asks her partner to let her know that he safely arrived to his destination (say he’s traveling by car long-distance). The guy might think her request is a little silly, because he doesn’t have the same level of anxiety about traveling. But still, he humors her and lets her know that he arrived safely – because he loves her and doesn’t want her to worry. And it’s not an unreasonable request to ask for: it only takes a few seconds to send a text or call. So he empathizes with her and does it FOR her, even if he himself doesn’t see it necessary.

I think it’s totally okay that our partner sometimes does things FOR us, even if they themselves don’t see it as necessary. If our request is reasonable, of course. Your request (or plea) to at least refuse to listen to explicit details of Sarah’s numerous sexual encounters with men – is a very reasonable one. If he isn’t willing to respect it, it shows he isn’t really respecting you and your needs. It means that his need to stay in a “special” relationship with Sarah – with absolutely no boundaries – is greater than his love and respect for you.

And that’s when we come back to the question of why he has this need and why he cannot let go. (One possible reason is because being Sarah’s shoulder to cry on might give him a sense of importance and even self-worth. Or it might give him a sense of belonging. In any case, it fulfills an unmet need at the expense of a healthy, mutually respectful relationship with you.)

I do not want him to lose a meaningful friendship, but some boundaries (like the sexual details) are hard lines for me, so at the very least I would want to be understood on those.

It’s good that you’ve clarified it with yourself that sexual details are a red line for you, and that you wouldn’t be willing to compromise on that. Please keep this in mind when you decide to talk to Sam about it.

I think as long as I feel understood on why those things are upsetting to me, I would be able to move past this.

Yes, it would be good if he would understand you and respect your position, even if he sees no harm in listening to those sexual details. Being able to put ourselves in another person’s shoes and understand their pain is a sign of empathy.

He is an honest person by nature and has always been forthcoming with me. I trust him, and I don’t think he’s trying to hide anything.

Yes, I guess the fact that he told you about the content of his chats with Sarah and the sexual details she is sharing with him is a testament to him not wanting to hide anything from you.

The only conclusion I can come to is that he genuinely doesn’t see why his behavior could be harmful to our relationship, and gets stuck defending his perspective.

Well, that’s worrisome. If he genuinely cannot empathize with you, that’s a problem. Or he might in other cases, but not in this one. If it’s the latter, it would show his own unhealthy attachment to Sarah, which causes him to have a blind spot in this particular issue.

part of my resentment towards Sam stems from not feeling like he truly values who I am — reserved, conservative, introspective. While on some level these traits feel like core values to me, there is a part of me that feels insecure about not having the opposite qualities — open, easy, free.

Are you reserved with him too? Are you sharing your emotions freely with him? Or you’re emotionally withdrawn and refuse to talk about your feelings?

From what you’ve shared so far, you’re not emotionally reserved with him. The fact that you’re not sharing every bit of your emotional and sexual intimacy with your other friends doesn’t make you deficient. He is trying to convince you that you’re deficient, but you’re not.

Where you do seem to be deficient in is self-esteem, as you said it yourself. You don’t value yourself and your qualities, but are allowing someone else (Sam) to tell you that you’re deficient. That something is wrong with you. That you need to “heal” – which would mean to let go of your boundaries and your core values.

I’m sorry but I don’t think Sam values you – he stubbornly refuses to see your point of view and keeps claiming that his behavior is healthy, and yours is deficient. That you’re not “open and free”, whereas her sharing of sexual details of her encounters with men is supposed to be “open, free and easy”?

It’s also interesting that he seems to judge men for a similarly promiscuous behavior like Sarah’s, but he doesn’t seem to judge her:

There are male acquaintances I have had that Sam has judged more harshly as well, for the same reasons. He feels he is naturally more qualified to make moral judgements for them, while he is more accepting of what externally appears to be the same actions from a female friend.

I have trouble accepting that Sam accepts and defends Sarah in her actions, because I don’t feel he values my conservatism and more emotionally reserved nature. How can he love and defend someone who rejects my core values?

He seems to have double standards: what is allowed for Sarah isn’t allowed for your male acquaintances. You also doubt that what he is allowing to himself (having such a level of emotional intimacy with Sarah) he would allow to you, even if he claims he would:

In our arguments he has insisted that he would not mind at all if I wanted to make more emotionally intimate male friends, but this I don’t believe. He’s very moralistic and tends to judge other men very harshly on matters of right/wrong. I can point to many signs he wouldn’t be okay with me having the same level of intimacy in a friendship with another man.

It seems he is strict and judgmental with some people, but very relaxed and full of understanding with other people – for the same kind of behavior.

I would take all of this into account, Ada. Also this what you said about your past relationships:

I have felt insecure in relationships before, but not anything I couldn’t reason through with my partner, and never to this extent.

So maybe it’s not up to you, but up to him?

Dear Ada:

In this reply, I’ll try to separate objective reality from emotional reality as clearly as I can.

Objective reality:

* Sam and Sarah are no longer “best friends.” Their contact now is limited to exchanging a few greetings here and there:

“He talks to her significantly less… Over several years… Sam has been less and less involved in Sarah’s life to the point where they only exchange a few greetings here and there now. I guess ‘best friend’ isn’t a fair label anymore.”

* Sam hasn’t met with Sarah in person for about four years—ever since shortly after the two of you began dating:

“Shortly after we started dating, we took advantage of the pandemic and remote work, and decided on a bit of a nomadic lifestyle, living in many cities across the US for a few years.”

* A few months ago, after moving back to your home city, Sam suggested that you meet Sarah—this would be your first time meeting her, and his first in about four years:

“Now that we have moved back in the area, he’s talking about meeting up with her again… A few months ago, we moved back to our home city, and recently he said he wanted me to meet Sarah.”

Emotional reality:

“My boyfriend’s relationship with his female best friend… I can’t seem to accept this relationship… the emotional intimacy of it is really eating away at me….”

And yet, if their current contact is minimal—just “a few greetings here and there”—what emotional intimacy actually exists now?

In my earlier replies, I may have confused the emotional reality you’re experiencing with the objective reality you’ve described. It seems what’s causing you distress isn’t what’s happening now, but what could happen if past emotional intimacy resumes. Perhaps the deeper fear is that if that connection rekindles, he’ll choose her over you.

Maybe the ache pulsing beneath it all is the lingering imprint of a childhood wound— that of being overlooked perhaps, or being quietly cast aside, or un-chosen in favor of someone so unlike you..?

With care, Anita