Love Is Not Enough: What "The Roses" (movie) Made Me Think About Relationships
We spend so much time asking, “Do I love this person?” Perhaps we also need to ask, “Do I know how to love this person well?”
I recently watched The Roses, and underneath the dark humour, arguments and eventual chaos, I found myself thinking about relationships.
About how two people can love each other and still hurt each other.
How two people can begin with genuine affection, attraction and admiration, and somewhere along the way lose their ability to see one another.
And perhaps most importantly, how love itself is sometimes not enough.
We also need communication, respect, emotional attunement, responsibility, vulnerability and the ability to repair when we inevitably get things wrong.
Growth - Relationships change, and the relationship has to change with them
One thing that struck me in The Roses was the reversal of roles.
When Theo's career collapsed, Ivy's business began to flourish. She became the breadwinner while he took greater responsibility for the children and home.
There was actually something supportive in that transition.
One partner could essentially say:
I'll carry more financially while things are going well for me. You take care of things here while you work out what comes next.
There is love in that.
But perhaps what was missing was the continuing conversation.
Because arrangements that work for a season cannot simply become permanent assumptions.
How are you doing with this?
Are you still okay carrying this?
Do you feel appreciated?
What do you need from me now?
Is this still working for us?
Relationships need renegotiation because people and circumstances change.
Careers change. Children grow. Bodies change. Money changes. Our emotional needs change.
What worked five years ago may not work today.
Parenting is work. Building a business is work.
I also found myself thinking about the danger of comparing whose burden is heavier.
One person is exhausted from parenting.
The other is exhausted from running a business.
Both can be true.
When couples begin competing over who is more tired, who contributes more, who sacrifices more or whose work matters more, they can stop being partners and slowly become opponents.
Perhaps the conversation needs to move away from:
“You don't understand how hard my life is.”
towards:
“I can see that this is hard for you too.”
Acknowledgement is powerful.
Sometimes our partner cannot immediately change our circumstances. But being seen within those circumstances can make an enormous difference.
Say what is underneath the anger
This is one of the biggest things I see in relationships.
We often communicate the secondary emotion rather than what is actually underneath it.
We show anger.
We criticise.
We become sarcastic.
We withdraw.
We say, “You never...” or “You always...”
But underneath that may be something much softer:
I miss you.
I don't feel important to you anymore.
I'm scared I am losing you.
I need to know that you still see me.
I feel like I'm carrying this alone.
I want to feel chosen.
That requires vulnerability.
And vulnerability can be frightening because criticism gives us armour. Anger gives us armour. Sarcasm gives us armour.
Saying “I need you” doesn't.
Yet that softer conversation is often the one our relationship actually needs.
Criticism slowly changes the way we see each other
Relationship researcher John Gottman describes four particularly destructive patterns: criticism, contempt, defensiveness and stonewalling.
And watching The Roses, you can almost see these patterns unfold.
A complaint about something specific becomes criticism of the person.
Criticism creates defensiveness.
Resentment accumulates.
Sarcasm becomes contempt.
Eventually, instead of thinking, “This is someone I love who is struggling,” we begin thinking, “This person is the problem.”
That shift matters.
Because, once I see you as the problem, I stop being curious about your experience.
I start collecting evidence against you.
I remember every previous offence.
I interpret neutral things negatively.
And I become much more interested in proving that I am right than understanding what is happening between us.
Don't underestimate contempt
This was perhaps the loudest relationship warning in the film for me.
Contempt.
Mocking.
Humiliation.
Eye-rolling.
Speaking to our partner as though they are stupid, pathetic, incapable or beneath us.
Sometimes couples even disguise contempt as humour. “We're just joking.”
But if the joke repeatedly diminishes the other person, something is happening underneath it.
Gottman's research has consistently identified contempt as especially destructive in relationships.
You can be angry with someone you love.
You can disagree strongly.
You can even say, “I really don't like what you did.”
But when respect disappears, the relationship becomes a very different place.
Being proud of your partner matters too
Something else we don't talk about enough is the importance of admiration.
Can I celebrate you when something wonderful happens to you?
Can I be proud of you without experiencing your success as evidence of my failure?
And when I am succeeding, can I remain sensitive to the fact that you may be struggling?
This is particularly important when careers, income, parenting roles or status shift.
Relationships need room for two people's lives.
Sometimes one person takes the lead.
Sometimes the other does.
Healthy partnership isn't necessarily 50/50 every single day.
Sometimes it is 80/20.
Sometimes 30/70.
The important thing is that neither person permanently disappears.
Love also needs responsibility
There was another dynamic in the film that caught my attention: what happens when one person becomes the responsible adult while the other increasingly occupies the freer, more playful role.
Playfulness is wonderful.
We need it.
But freedom without responsibility can eventually leave the other person carrying the emotional, practical or parental weight of the relationship.
Then resentment grows.
Again, this isn't necessarily about deciding who is right.
It is about being able to say:
Something has become unbalanced between us. Can we look at it together?
That word together matters.
And then there is repair
Perhaps one of the most important relationship skills is not avoiding rupture. That is impossible.
We will misunderstand each other.
We will say the wrong thing.
We will become defensive.
We will occasionally be selfish, tired, distracted or insensitive.
Healthy relationships are not relationships without rupture.
They are relationships where people learn how to repair.
I'm sorry.
That came out badly.
I understand why that hurt you.
You're right. I became defensive.
Can we start this conversation again?
Tell me what you needed from me.
Repair requires something very difficult: putting the relationship ahead of our need to win.
Choosing someone is not something we do once
Perhaps this is what stayed with me most after watching the film.
We talk about choosing our partner as though it happens at the beginning.
We choose them when we start dating.
We choose them when we become exclusive.
We choose them when we marry.
But perhaps long-term love asks us to keep choosing.
Not blindly. Not at the expense of ourselves.
And certainly not when a relationship is abusive or unsafe.
But in healthy relationships, choosing each other may look remarkably ordinary.
Turning towards instead of away.
Listening when it would be easier to defend.
Remaining curious.
Taking responsibility.
Being reliable.
Showing affection.
Being proud of the other person's growth.
Allowing them to change.
Making space for their needs without abandoning our own.
And coming back after rupture and saying: Can we try that again?
Perhaps these are questions worth asking before we choose someone
Whether you are single, dating, recovering from a breakup or trying to understand why relationships have been difficult for you, perhaps the work isn't only about finding the right person. It is also about understanding who we become in relationship.
When I feel hurt, do I communicate or withdraw?
Can I express what I need?
Can I tolerate another person's needs being different from mine?
Can I compromise without abandoning myself?
Can I take responsibility when I have hurt someone?
Can I receive feedback without immediately defending myself?
Can I celebrate my partner's success?
Can I repair?
Can I remain myself while also making room for another person?
And perhaps one of the most important questions:
Do I know the difference between being chosen by someone and choosing a relationship that is actually good for me?
Because love is important.
But healthy love asks for more than feeling.
It asks for emotional maturity.
Communication.
Respect.
Responsibility.
Attunement.
Repair.
And two people who are willing, again and again, to show up for themselves, for each other, and for the relationship they are creating together.



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