Aggeliki FaitaRelationship Problems & How to Fix Them – Part 3
There’s something almost every one of us is doing in our relationships – without even realising it – and it’s quietly draining our happiness:
We are expecting the people in our lives to behave according to our personal rulebook.
We don’t write it down. We don’t hand it to them.
And yet, when they don’t follow it… we feel hurt, unloved, or disappointed.
These invisible rule books are what my teacher at The Life Coach School, Brooke Castillo, calls Manuals. And once I learned this concept, I started to see it everywhere – in marriages, friendships, even with our children.
What is a manual?
A manual is an internal list of instructions for how other people should behave so that we can feel good, secure, or loved.
For example, we might believe our partner should:
- Know when something is wrong without us having to say it.
- Ask how our day was.
- Make us a cup of tea when we look tired.
- Remember our birthday and plan something special.
- Never raise their voice.
- Always agree with us in front of others.
These expectations seem reasonable to us because they are based on our own values, upbringing, and emotional needs.
The issue isn’t that we have needs.
The issue is that we expect others to meet those needs without us clearly expressing them – and then we measure their love based on whether they get it right.
A real story – when love meets the manual
A woman shared with me how deeply disappointed she felt when her husband planned her 50th birthday party.
This was a milestone birthday. She had dreamed about it for years. She had a very specific image in her mind – her closest friends, certain decorations, music she loved, the feeling of being celebrated and seen.
Her husband did plan a party. He put in effort, called who he could, decorated the house, and tried his best with the time and knowledge he had.
But when she walked in, she didn’t see love – she saw what was missing.
She said, “I would have done this, and added that, and invited these people…” But what she was really saying was:
“He didn’t follow my manual.”
And the pain didn’t come from his lack of effort.
It came from the expectation that he should know how to love her the way she loves others.
His love language was an act of service.
Hers was emotional detail and thoughtful planning.
Neither was wrong.
But when we judge love through the lens of our manual, we often miss the love that is actually being offered.
My own story – when I became the one who “failed the manual”
When I was younger, a close friend got upset with me because I forgot her birthday. She told me, “If you really cared, you would remember.”
And in that moment, I felt terrible – not because I didn’t care, but because I genuinely didn’t remember.
I was in survival mode at the time, overwhelmed with my own worries, and my brain simply had no space left for dates.
But she couldn’t see that. She interpreted my forgetfulness as a lack of love.
The truth? I deeply cared about her. I still do. I just express love differently – through presence, through time, through deeply listening. And in the end, that is what she valued most in our friendship.
So now, I always say to my friends:
“Please remind me when it’s your birthday. Not because I don’t care – but because I do. I want to celebrate you. I just may not remember the date. Let’s not make birthdays a test of love. Let’s make them an invitation to love each other better.”
This is the heart of the manual concept:
We are all loving… just not always in the way others expect.
Why we hold onto manuals
Manuals are not born from control. They are born from emotion – usually fear, longing, or a desire to feel valued.
We believe:
- If you love me, you should just know.
- If I have to ask, it doesn’t count.
- If you cared, you’d do it the way I would do it.
But what if that belief is blocking the very connection we crave?
What if asking for what we need is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of maturity in love?
The cost of the manual
When our happiness depends on someone else’s behaviour, we hand away our emotional power.
We set them up to fail.
We silently test them:
“If you remember, I will feel loved.”
“If you forget, I will feel unloved.”
And most of the time… they don’t even know they’re being tested.
A new way forward
What if we let go of the manual?
What if we allowed the people in our lives to love us in their own language?
What if we didn’t make their actions mean they don’t care – but simply saw them as different expressions of care?
This doesn’t mean lowering standards.
It means raising awareness.
It means moving from silent expectations to honest conversations.
It means replacing judgment with curiosity.
Reflection questions
- Where in your life are you holding a manual?
- What expectations have you never actually communicated?
- How might your relationships shift if you started focusing on intention instead of performance?
Next time you feel disappointed, try saying:
“I may have an invisible expectation here – can we talk about it?”
Because love isn’t proven through perfect behaviour.
Love is proven in willingness – willingness to understand, to listen, to show up, and to grow together… beyond the manual.
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