Fighting with Norms

Let’s start with what norms are.
Norms are expectations. Patterns of thought and behavior that are supposed to repeat themselves in a predictable way. They can be informal beliefs or formalized into moral rules, social contracts, and legal systems. At times, norms serve a purpose,to create order, coordination, and safety. At other times, they exist simply because they once did.
And once something becomes a norm, it becomes normal.
Unquestioned. Predictable. Safe.
Even often if dead, it is defended as if life depended on it.
The unsexy phrase “it’s always been like that” is the clearest warning sign. Marriage, for example, was originally a political and economic tool to secure kingdoms and property. Tattoos were once unacceptable, then rebellious, then fashionable. Norms shift constantly, yet we pretend they don’t.
Yes, norms are important. Predictability matters. Structure matters.
But a mind that treats norms as eternal truths rather than temporary agreements becomes rigid, and rigidity is not stability, it’s fear wearing a suit.
This is where we struggle most.
We imprison ourselves inside a vast collection of norms and then demand consistency from ourselves and others as proof of reliability. Someone says something once, believes something once, and suddenly it must remain true forever. Do you hear the accusation already?
“But you said…”. I heard it often enough.
Changing your mind is tolerated, but only under suspicion. It requires justification, explanations, apologies. Otherwise, discomfort arises. If someone changes their mind, what else might they change their mind about?
Uncertainty enters. Control weakens. Anxiety follows.
So we learn early: Don’t change too much. Don’t surprise people.
We navigate life guided by norms absorbed from parents, culture, school, religion, media, and relationships. And every day, consciously or not, we measure ourselves against them.
Do I fit?
Am I acceptable?
Do I deserve belonging, love, approval?
An “open mind” is often praised, but rarely practiced.
So let’s take it literally.
Today I like spaghetti. Tomorrow, maybe not.
Today I love you. Tomorrow, I don’t know.
Today I enjoy writing. Tomorrow, I may not.
I didn’t like the food at xyz, but one day, I might try again.
When taken seriously, this destroys many inherited norms very quickly. Because we begin to notice which beliefs were never chosen, never tested, never truly ours. They simply didn’t fit that day.
And yes, that day matters.
Because pretending we know what will be true tomorrow is dishonest. We don’t. We never did.
We shall see.
This may sound radical, but in reality it rarely turns life upside down completely. Instead, it creates friction at very specific points, those exact places where something always felt off, heavy, or quietly wrong, yet was never questioned.
Again: norms are necessary.
But very few are universal.
And almost none are eternal.
Relationships expose this conflict mercilessly.
There are strict norms defining what a relationship should look like. Labels are assigned value: engaged, married, unmarried, divorced. These values are rarely examined; they are inherited. Learned from parents, relatives, stories, and images long before we are capable of reflection.
So we decide early how love should unfold and who we are supposed to be within it.
Until death parts us.
A child.
A house.
A garden.
A dog.
A faithful, attractive, intelligent, funny partner.
And we, of course, are equally faithful, caring, and fulfilled.
Happily ever after.
It must be like that, because fairy tales say so. Social media shows it. Romantic literature sells it. And somewhere along the way, we heard it repeated often enough to mistake repetition for truth.
So when asked what we want, we answer accordingly.
And by doing so, we reinforce the belief.
Then reality shows up.
And suddenly the relationship is not like that at all.
This is the moment where most people do not question the norm, yet create some new ones:
They question themselves.
They try harder.
They endure more.
They shrink.
They normalize dissatisfaction.
They call silence “peace” and distance “maturity.”
They remain loyal, not to what is alive between two people, but to an idea they once agreed to and are now afraid to betray.
The conflict was never between partners.
It was between lived reality and an inherited script filled with expectations or norms.
And most people will sacrifice truth before they sacrifice the script.

What will you do?

Lets-Talk about it

Namaste

Stefan