the sunken cost of love

How emotional investment keeps us stuck in relationships that no longer serve us.

I have a friend who struggles to say ‘no’ to people. In every area of life, a bona fide people pleaser. It’s so bad that instead of rejecting guys, she tries to make situations uncomfortable enough that the person decides to leave her.

A running joke with my wife is that if anything ever happened to our marriage, I wouldn’t leave. Instead of finding somewhere new to stay, I’d just relocate and live on the couch.

“Even if you didn’t love me anymore?” she asks.

“Yup,” I respond.

She hates this answer, but I’m not a quitter, I like to tell myself. But to be honest, I’ve invested too much into the relationship to let it go. It’s a version of the sunken cost fallacy. The sunken cost fallacy is when we continue investing time, energy, or emotion into something simply because we've already invested so much.

I see this a lot in relationships: We have kids, we’ve been together for X number of years, it’s not ‘I’ anymore it is ‘us’.

It’s not easy to know the difference between when to hold on and when to let go. Some people are blessed with that superpower. Some people don’t hesitate to keep it moving the moment something doesn’t feel right. I admire them. At the same time, if you’re always jumping ship, how do you ever plant deep roots in anyone? That’s the risk we take for commitment.

I’ve seen both sides of the coin — too much investment with very little given back, and too little investment that never lets you truly know anyone on a deeper level.

My wife is my first girlfriend. I promised myself I would never get into a relationship unless I knew it could lead to marriage. But that didn’t come from wisdom or foresight. It came from a place of hurt.

At fifteen, what boy didn’t want a girlfriend — among other things? I remember how much I chased my teenage crush around North London, praying she’d give me a chance. I think I nerve-rackingly asked her to go to the cinema with me, and she agreed, but it never happened. I don’t blame her for rejecting my lovestruck, hormonal self. That first heartbreak is the worst. From that moment onwards, I promised myself I wouldn’t invest too much of my heart into any girl again.

So how did I decide my wife was worth it?

I didn’t. I didn’t want to put my heart out there again, because I knew once I invested, there was no guarantee of a return. I don’t think enough people really consider the investment they’re making when they enter into relationships. They stumble forward based on how they feel, until the feelings overwhelm them and they’re too deep in it to turn back.

Casual hook-ups. No-strings-attached intimacy. I don’t believe in it. Because you’re giving a piece of yourself to someone without knowing if you can ever take it back.

This happens in all relationships — romantic, parenting, even jobs. We live so much in the moment that we don’t calculate the full distance.

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