Because sometimes love looks like emotional labor disguised as loyalty.
There comes a point in every relationship — romantic, familial, or platonic — when you stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m. and think, “Why am I doing this to myself?” Maybe it’s your father who suddenly wants your company now that he’s sick (after a lifetime of emotional absenteeism). Maybe it’s your spouse who treats your needs like pop-up ads — annoying, ignorable, and easy to close. Or maybe it’s that “friend” who’s a delight at brunch but turns into a werewolf every time you disagree.
Enter KC Davis, therapist and author of Who Deserves Your Love: How to Create Boundaries to Start, Strengthen, or End Any Relationship. Davis offers a “Relationship Decision Tree” — a flowchart for deciding whether to invest or eject. It’s the psychological version of checking your oil light, except the car is your sanity.
But let’s be real: few of us pull out a flowchart when our patience is on fire. So let’s break this down — the serious questions, the emotional acrobatics, and the brutal honesty you pretend you’re not texting your therapist about.
1. Why Is This Behavior Objectionable to You?
You’d think the answer would be obvious: “Because it’s awful.” But apparently, you need to unpack it. Davis says to dig deeper: is it just annoying, or actually harmful?
Annoying: Your roommate leaves dishes in the sink.
Harmful: They’ve built a small ecosystem of fruit flies that could file for citizenship.
Annoying: Your partner forgets your birthday.
Harmful: They remember it — but spend it explaining why you’re the problem.
The idea is to separate what’s truly damaging from what’s just a clash of styles. Not every irritation deserves a full relationship autopsy. But if every interaction leaves you feeling smaller, stupider, or one argument away from Googling “quiet ways to fake your own death,” it’s probably not just a quirk.
2. Are They Willing to Change?
Ah, the million-dollar question. The answer, statistically speaking, is no.
Sure, people can change — just like cats can learn to play chess. It’s theoretically possible, but don’t bet your mental health on it.
Davis suggests having a conversation about it, but we all know how that goes:
You: “It really hurts me when you ignore my messages.”
Them: “Well, maybe if you didn’t message so much.”
Change only happens when someone sees their behavior as a problem. And many people treat emotional feedback like spam email: “Mark as read, delete, repeat.”
So if your loved one’s idea of “compromise” is you lowering your standards, you’re not negotiating — you’re surrendering.
3. Does Staying in This Relationship Violate My Values?
This one sounds straightforward until you realize most people don’t know what their values are. You say “I value honesty,” then find yourself in a situationship with a person whose last truthful statement was “I’ll call you back.”
Davis defines core values as physical and psychological safety — yours and any dependents’. That’s a good baseline. But let’s be honest, half the population treats “psychological safety” like a luxury brand.
If staying with someone means betraying your sense of dignity, peace, or sobriety, that’s not a relationship — it’s a slow leak in your soul.
And if your therapist has started using phrases like “codependent burnout” and “self-abandonment with flair,” congratulations, you’re probably overdue for an exit strategy.
4. Would Leaving This Relationship Violate My Values?
This is where moral gymnastics begin. You start doing mental calculus that would make Einstein weep.
You think:
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“But they’ve been in my life for ten years!”
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“But they need me right now.”
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“But who else will tolerate their nonsense?”
Davis reminds us that history isn’t an obligation. If you’ve known someone for a decade and it’s been nine and a half years of pain, you don’t owe them another round of suffering just because the anniversary’s coming up.
It’s also okay to weigh context. Dumping your mom for standing you up once might be extreme; dumping your boyfriend for ghosting you after an argument might be evolution.
In short: longevity isn’t loyalty, and guilt isn’t love.
5. If I Want to Disengage, What Could That Look Like?
Ah yes, the art of ghosting responsibly — also known as “setting boundaries.”
Disengagement doesn’t always mean cutting someone off like an expired credit card. It might mean reducing contact, redefining roles, or changing expectations. Think of it as emotional downsizing.
Examples:
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Marriage: Maybe you stop trying to fix it and instead invest in therapy — or a solid divorce attorney.
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Parents: Maybe you only see them on holidays, ideally after a stiff drink.
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Friends: Maybe you stop inviting them to one-on-one hangouts, but still wave politely across the group chat.
It’s not about revenge; it’s about bandwidth. You have a limited emotional data plan, and some people stream in HD drama.
And yes, you’re allowed to press “pause.” Taking a break from someone doesn’t mean you hate them — it means you love yourself enough to stop bleeding energy on hope.
6. If I Want to Maintain the Relationship, How Could I Do So With Boundaries?
Now we enter the sacred temple of “boundaries” — a word people love to say but rarely practice. Boundaries aren’t ultimatums; they’re user manuals. They tell others how to interact with you without voiding your warranty.
If your dad with dementia becomes verbally abusive, it’s okay to limit visits or plan an emotional “cool-down” ritual afterward. You don’t have to martyr yourself on the altar of filial duty.
If your partner spends every Saturday on a six-hour bike ride while you fold the universe back into order, your boundary might be hiring help or — revolutionary thought — not doing their chores.
A boundary is not “convincing them to change.” It’s “changing how you show up so you stop being collateral damage.”
People who don’t like your boundaries usually benefited from you not having any.
7. The Emotional Fine Print
Here’s the thing no flowchart mentions: every decision — to stay, to leave, to recalibrate — comes with grief. Even walking away from toxicity can feel like tearing out a root system that’s grown into your identity.
You’ll second-guess yourself. You’ll wonder if you’re selfish. You’ll replay the good moments like highlight reels of a show that’s already been canceled.
But clarity is not cruelty. Sometimes loving someone means acknowledging they’re not safe for your peace. And sometimes sticking it out means learning that perfection isn’t required for connection.
Either way, maturity is realizing you can’t outsource self-respect.
8. Relationship Decision Tree (Unfiltered Edition)
Forget the clinical flowchart. Here’s the brutally honest, unofficial version:
Step 1: Do they make your life easier or harder?
If you need Advil after every conversation, that’s data.
Step 2: Are you the only one trying?
If “we need to talk” turns into you giving a TED Talk on empathy while they scroll through memes, that’s data.
Step 3: Do they apologize or just reset the clock until the next screw-up?
Pattern > promises.
Step 4: Are you growing, or just enduring?
Because endurance isn’t the same as intimacy.
Step 5: Would you tell your best friend to stay in this situation?
If not, stop gaslighting yourself.
9. The Cultural Guilt Trap
We live in a society that worships endurance. “Stick it out,” they say — as if resilience is proof of worthiness. But sometimes, quitting is the bravest thing you can do.
We applaud people for leaving bad jobs, bad diets, even bad Netflix series. But relationships? Suddenly, it’s a moral failing. You’re accused of being cold, selfish, or “unable to commit.”
Yet no one claps when you stay in something that erodes you — they just quietly watch as you shrink.
Let’s normalize exiting relationships that require self-abandonment as an entry fee.
10. The Illusion of Obligation
One of Davis’s sharpest insights is about “perceived obligation.” The idea that because someone needs you, you must comply.
Here’s a radical thought: You are not a 24-hour emotional emergency room.
If a loved one’s neediness constantly trumps your wellbeing, that’s not love — it’s logistics. And logistics don’t build intimacy; they build burnout.
It’s possible to care without caregiving yourself into oblivion. You can visit your sick dad without moving back in. You can be compassionate without being consumed. You can say, “I love you, but I can’t keep doing this,” and still be a good person.
11. The Myth of “Temporary Problems”
The phrase “They’ll change” has bankrupted more emotional accounts than Vegas.
People say, “It’s just a rough patch,” but rough patches that last five years are called landscapes.
Hope can be healing, but it can also be a hallucinogen.
Ask yourself: am I staying because things could get better — or because I’m afraid of being alone?
If your biggest reason to stay is inertia, it’s not a relationship — it’s a holding pattern.
12. Boundaries Are Not Walls
Let’s clear this up: setting boundaries doesn’t mean you’ve become some cold-hearted minimalist monk. Boundaries protect connection — they make it sustainable.
When you tell someone, “I can only talk about this for ten minutes,” you’re not avoiding them. You’re keeping the conversation from becoming emotional demolition.
When you decide to skip your dad’s guilt-trip dinners but still call once a week, that’s not neglect. It’s emotional budgeting.
Healthy people respect boundaries because they understand they’re invitations, not rejections. Toxic people see them as obstacles — because boundaries interrupt their access to your energy supply.
13. Love Without Rescue Missions
Here’s the hardest pill: you can love someone deeply and still not be able to have a relationship with them.
You can’t therapy your way into compatibility. You can’t “love-bomb” someone into empathy.
KC Davis reminds us that boundaries aren’t punishments — they’re permissions. Permissions to choose peace over chaos, dignity over guilt, and sanity over sentimentality.
Love is not a rescue mission; it’s a partnership. If you’re doing all the emotional CPR, it’s time to call time of death.
14. Practical Advice for the Overthinkers
Because no self-help article is complete without bullet points that sound obvious until you actually try them:
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Journal it out: Write the good, the bad, and the patterns. Seeing them in ink helps you see reality without nostalgia’s filter.
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Ask neutral parties: Friends who don’t benefit from your denial will tell you the truth.
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Set a trial period: Give the relationship 30 days with clear boundaries. If nothing changes, neither should your decision.
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Remember your worth isn’t negotiable: You don’t have to earn love by suffering for it.
15. Final Thoughts: Choosing Yourself Isn’t Cruelty
Relationships are living organisms. Some thrive in sunlight and water; others only survive in neglect and denial. Knowing when to prune is not heartlessness — it’s horticulture.
Maybe you’ll stay and rebuild. Maybe you’ll walk away and rebuild yourself. Either way, clarity is liberation.
So the next time you’re wondering whether to step back or stick it out, don’t just ask, “Do I love them?” Ask, “Does loving them still feel like love?”
If the answer’s no — draw that neon yellow boundary line, and step back into your peace.
Because the best relationships don’t drain you — they hold space for you to be whole. And sometimes, the only way to find that space… is to reclaim it.