194. Concentric circles of connection
When I was a math tutor during my university years, we had a few work meetings about setting boundaries with students and handling tricky situations. One thing I remember is how they emphasized the need to establish clear boundaries early on. It wasnāt just about keeping things professional, but about making sure both students and tutors felt comfortable. I recall one meeting where we role-played scenarios- like a student getting too talkative (I had a lot of kids tell me about their home lives for some reason, but these details go in one ear and out the other since I'm not supposed to really know weird intimate details I guess) or asking for help outside of tutoring hours (this is a big no). At first, it felt a bit awkward, but it was to find that balance. You could be friendly and approachable while still being clear about your limits. Turns out, boundaries werenāt just for the students, they were for us, too.
We were taught to establish boundaries early- mostly to keep things professional, but also to make sure we were okay. It wasnāt always easy, but it taught me that boundaries are not only just about saying ānoā or creating distance, but also about understanding where you end and someone else begins, and finding a balance in how much you share. Itās something that Iāve carried with me, especially when it comes to relationships. In fact, itās helped me understand how connections arenāt always as fixed as we might expect. Instead, theyāre more like concentric circles, shifting and changing as we grow, and sometimes the people at the center of those circles change with time too. For instance, the person who might feel like "the one" in one chapter of your life might not stay there forever- and thatās okay. It doesnāt lessen the connection, it just means the circle has moved, as it tends to do.
Source: We Should Get Together: Navigating āpink flagsā and cultivating an outer circle. The Rings of Connection theory was first posited by Robin Dunbar 1, illustrated here by Kat Vellos
Iāve started to picture relationships as concentric circles- layers of connection with different levels of intimacy and boundary. The closer someone is to the center, the more theyāre allowed to share in the core of who you are, while the further they are, the more space you keep between you. Itās not about keeping people out, but about protecting your energy and making sure you can nurture the relationships that matter most.
At the center of these circles are the people who truly know you- the inner circle people who are there through thick and thin. These are the family members, close friends, and partners who have earned a place in your innermost world. You share everything with them, from the biggest highs to the lowest lows, because thereās a trust there thatās been built over time. But even with them, thereās always a boundary. You can be close without letting anyone cross that invisible line.
The outer circles of relationships- the friends, acquaintances, and even the casual connections- still hold value, even if theyāre not at the core. They might not be "the one," but they still play a crucial role in your life. They might offer advice, companionship, or a new perspective. Theyāre just as important in the grand scheme of things, even if their place in your concentric circles is further out.
Life changes, people grow, and so do relationships. There may be a time when someone else moves into the center, another person who fills the role of "the one" for you at a different stage in your life. These shifts arenāt a sign that the previous person wasnāt "the one" in their own way- they simply reflect the ever-evolving nature of love and connection. The person who was "the one" for you in your twenties might not be the same as the one in your thirties, and thatās okay. It doesnāt diminish the depth of what you shared; it just means your circle has shifted, and so has your life.
When it comes to the idea of "the one", that romantic soulmate weāve all heard about, it starts to feel less like a singular person who will fulfill every need, and more like a fluid concept. In the context of concentric circles, āthe oneā isnāt a destination, but rather a dynamic part of our journey. The person who might be at the center of your circle today could very well be the person you call your "one" at this moment in your life. But that doesnāt mean theyāll always be in that spot, and that doesnāt make them any less important. They weren't even "the one" at the inception of "me becoming a person" anyway.
I think this approach to āthe oneā is a more realistic way to view love. Itās less about searching for that perfect, static partner who will complete you, and more about recognizing the different people who shape your journey. I used to have the naive thought that the person I'm with right now will be my person as long as they are around, because I never thought that I'd grow tired of them. I realize that maybe there isnāt just one "the one."
I've been always told that every relationship (romantic or otherwise) teaches you a lesson. I've felt flat on my face over and over if a romantic thing doesn't work out, but I've come to realize that perhaps there isn't a end-all solution to finding your "soulmate", if there is such a thing. The one warning I've received was that I shouldn't let the cynicism and bleakness of the "modern dating scene" make me feel so jaded. I've been heartbroken so many times last year, some of them my fault in actuality, but I don't want to let it affect me incredibly so that I don't have hope anymore... Maybe there are multiple 'ones' - each one coming into your life at different points, filling the space in your center when the timing is right. Each relationship brings something unique, and they all contribute to the person you become. Perhaps this is my form of copium, thinking that maybe with every heartbreak, I'm getting closer and closer to the person that's going to stick around for the long haul.
In the end, I think love isnāt a fixed concept. Itās fluid, evolving, and adaptable. "The one" doesnāt have to be a single person. It can be many people, each one contributing to different chapters of your life. And as your circles change, so too will the connections that sit at the center. What matters most is how you nurture those relationships, how you maintain boundaries while still letting the people who matter the most in, and how you allow yourself to grow along the way.
~ a reuleaux triangle,
<3 K
š https://marblethoughts.bearblog.dev/
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Related articles, blog posts, and papers:
- The Atlantic: You Can Only Maintain So Many Close Friendships
- BBC Dunbar's number: Why we can only maintain 150 relationships
- Evolutionary Anthropology paper written by Robin Dunbar The Social Brain Hypothesis
- Human Nature paper written by Robin Dunbar Social Network Size in Humans
- Meaning Lab by Cody Kommers Palentine's Day (featuring Robin Dunbar)
- Wikipedia: Dunbar's number