So, your partner is doing their third workshop of the week. And it’s only Tuesday. Oh, improv you flighty and absorbing muse. You healthily addictive drug. You sparkling, ephemeral thing of beauty and connection. Yep, improv is great. But it takes both money and time to do well; you have to factor in time travelling, rehearsing, performing, not to mention the social drinks at the bar afterwards. For those avid improvisers reading this - if you’re doing this several times a week and you have a life partner; you’re choosing to invest a big chunk of your time in something that isn’t them.
So this is for the partners of improvisers: How do you know when your beloved’s hobby has hit the problematic stage? This article is written from the only perspective I have; a cis-gendered, heterosexual, monogamous marriage – because we definitely need more advice for people in those, right? I fully acknowledge that these experiences are not universal to the wonderful diversity of partnership and ways of being together that people can enjoy, and what works for me and mine won’t for everyone else. But here’s my thoughts; take what works for you and leave whatever doesn’t.
The first thing to examine is – how does their regular absence make you feel? It could feel like loneliness, abandonment, the nagging feeling of being replaced. None of these are good or comfortable head spaces, and unless acknowledged and addressed, can cause huge tension in a relationship. If you let them bubble away without acknowledging that there could be a problem, it can lead to behaviour that’s graspy and attention-seeking when you do see your partner, and drive a wedge deeper.
To avoid this the first thing to do is check in with yourself; what feels like too much improv for your partner to do? Where is your partner spending the majority of their time or money? If you feel like a disproportionate amount is going on a ‘hobby’ then it’s time for you to assess: what would ‘proportional’ look like to you? Is two nights a week of workshops and shows ok? Are you fine with them booking in three months of intensive training in Chicago? At the exact time that you’re buying your first house together? (I think I’ve gone too specific)
There’s a well-known saying:
Plant your own garden, don’t wait for someone else to bring you flowers.
Essentially, it means; don’t wait to take action to make yourself happy, and don’t rely on your partner (or anyone else) to take responsibility for creating your happiness.
Be adult and open with your partner: have clear asks and discussions about what you need to make the relationship work. Bring these needs forward with thought and clarity, not from a place of resentment or feeling emotionally abandoned. Being clear on what you expect them to bring to the relationship for it to function will really vary depending on your joint emotional needs and situation in life. It could be support with domestic and household chores. For those of us with children, or caring responsibilities, it could be taking an equal or proportionate role in childcare. But it could also be the need for shared leisure and connection time; perhaps the opportunity to still travel with and holiday together to events that aren’t improv festivals.
Analyse; how do you know that when you are together, you’re in a place of connection, not anger? When you’ve set these clear asks and boundaries, don’t enforce them with threats, but with respect for each other and acknowledgement of each other’s feelings. If these boundaries are consistently overstepped, it's time for a candid conversation and negotiation. Or if the boundaries that you set are consistently leaving one of you unhappy, there might be something deeper and more vulnerable to be explored.
But, if you’ve fallen in love with someone and who they are, the things they enjoy are a part of that. Doing what you love could make you the best version of yourself; consistently denying yourself activities which bring you community, connection, creativity and joy, is unlikely to lead to the happiest life. The same is true of any activity, not just improv.
New friendships, the affirmation of performance, the joy of creative release, and mental stimulation, is a big dopamine hit. Perhaps your loved one just performed a sold-out show to a standing ovation. In the best of situations, you might have been flushed with pride in the audience (or even performing on stage too!) but if you weren’t – do you need to hear a breakdown of the best moments of the second and third beats where they played a talking space squid? Do you in fact need to hear anything when they get back home at midnight, high on adrenaline and art? No, you do not. It’s on a par with recounting dreams or DnD sessions. Keep that shit to people who were actually in the room. Just a simple ‘good/bad/other’ retrospective will do.
If, though, you like a bit of theatricality, why not have a go at improv? Start at your own pace, and be cautious that your partner doesn’t overload you with advice and, most importantly, side-coaching/notation. Start off with some other beginners, perhaps some short-form classes, and find your own way into the art form on your own terms. You might find a new way of connecting with your partner on a wave of zipzapboinging joy, or you might decide that it’s horrifically embarrassing to pretend to be a zombie penguin and take a pottery class instead. The point is to find what makes you tick.
Just like my husband Chris said on our second date 19 years ago: ‘You plant your own garden; don’t wait for someone else to bring you flowers.’
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<aside> 💡 Hey, my name’s Chris Mead. I write an article about improv almost every week (or in this case get my wife to write me one). You can get the latest in your inbox by subscribing to my newsletter. Or check out the archive.
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