Ask people why they want a relationship, and the answers are usually similar.

"To be happy."

"To find my person."

"To feel loved."

They're beautiful aspirations. But I wonder if we've misunderstood what relationships are really for.

We often treat love as the destination. As though, once we've found the right person, the hard work is over.

What if it's only just beginning?

I don't believe our partners are here to complete us.

I believe they're here to introduce us to ourselves.

Think about it.

You can read every book on self-awareness.

You can meditate every morning. Go to therapy. Practise mindfulness. Build an incredible career. Travel the world. Learn new skills. Achieve goals you never thought possible.

Every one of those experiences will help you grow.

But there are parts of you that only another human being can reveal.

Because intimacy leaves you with nowhere to hide.

A close relationship exposes the places where you're still protecting yourself.

It reveals where you need to control.

Where you struggle to receive love.

Where your heart quietly closes after disappointment.

Where you avoid difficult conversations.

Where you're afraid to ask for what you truly need.

Where you project old wounds onto the person standing in front of you.

These parts of ourselves often remain invisible when life is comfortable. They emerge when someone gets close enough to matter.

That's why relationships can feel so challenging.

Not because something has gone wrong.

But because they are revealing something that has always been there.

At the same time, relationships don't only expose our wounds.

They reveal our greatest strengths.

Our capacity to forgive.

To stay present when leaving would be easier.

To repair after conflict instead of keeping score.

To choose understanding over being right.

To become more patient, more generous and more compassionate than we thought possible.

No promotion will ever ask you to do that.

No marathon.

No salary increase.

No passport full of stamps.

Achievement can change your circumstances.

Love changes your character.

It asks for humility.

Honesty.

Courage.

The willingness to let another imperfect human being influence who you become.

That's why I think we've been asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking,

"Will this relationship make me happy?"

Perhaps we should also ask,

"Who is this relationship helping me become?"

Relationships aren't just where we experience love. They're where we practise becoming the people we're capable of being.

Of course, relationships should bring joy. Safety. Laughter. Friendship. Deep companionship.

But perhaps those aren't simply the purpose of love.

Perhaps they're what grows naturally when two people are committed to becoming better humans together.

Maybe the greatest measure of a life isn't only what we build or what we achieve.

Maybe it's who we become.

And perhaps there is no greater teacher than choosing, day after day, to love another imperfect human being, and allowing them to love us enough to change us in return.

That, to me, is the real purpose of intimacy.

Not simply to find love.

But to become more deeply human through it.