When compromise stops being healthy

The average person makes around 35,000 decisions each day. They can be as small as deciding what to have for dinner, or as significant as figuring out who you're going to vote for in the upcoming election.

When you start dating someone, the number of decisions you make together multiplies. Your choices now have to account for another person's values, desires and preferences.

So, compromise becomes a daily ritual.

Often, these compromises are low stakes: deciding what to watch on TV, choosing a restaurant, splitting chores, or skipping the gym for a date night. They can build connection, show flexibility and make everyday life a little smoother without compromising your sense of self.

But eventually, bigger questions arise. Will we have children? Who will manage our finances? Where are we going to settle down? What role will religion play in our lives?

These are necessary conversations in any serious, long-term relationship. But sometimes, finding common ground means one or both people are asked to sacrifice something fundamental to who they are.

We're often told that compromise is the key to a successful relationship. But not everything should be up for negotiation.

When we start changing ourselves to avoid conflict, or slowly trading pieces of ourselves away in the name of love, a relationship that once brought us joy can become a source of tension.

It's unrealistic to expect you and your partner to agree on everything. Some flexibility is necessary, particularly in long-term relationships. But there's a stark difference between adjusting with integrity and abandoning your core values entirely.

Take Joanna and Noah in Netflix's Nobody Wants This. In the show, agnostic sex-and-dating podcaster Joanne falls in love with Noah, a progressive rabbi. But for Noah, his religion, career and family expectations make marrying within the Jewish faith a non-negotiable. This puts pressure on Joanne to consider converting to Judaism if they are going to build a future together.

Throughout the show, the couple flip-flops between compromises that begin to blur the line between flexibility and self-sacrifice. Noah considers compromising his career to prioritise his relationship with a non-Jewish woman, while Joanne struggles with the expectation that she may need to convert in order for their relationship to work.

For Joanne, this creates an ongoing internal tug-of-war between her own beliefs and the person she feels she is expected to become.

Before the couple eventually decide (spoiler alert) that neither of them should have to change their core values for the other, they repeatedly break up and get back together. The tension is obvious: if neither person is willing to give up their beliefs, how can they build a life together?

It's a question that exists far beyond Netflix romances. Sometimes, compromise means meeting someone halfway. Other times, it means asking yourself how much of the way you're willing to walk before you realise you've left yourself behind.

But where is the line?

The problem with compromise is that we've followed a societal script that's made it sound like an inherently virtuous act. We associate it with maturity, communication and emotional intelligence.

Nobody wants to be the partner who is unwilling to compromise.

But if you're constantly bending your morals for your partner, that isn't compromise. It's surrender.

A healthy compromise isn't comfortable, but it should leave both parties feeling like they've been heard. It might not give either person exactly what they wanted, or it might lean more in one direction than the other, but it should have given both people a chance to participate in the decision.

The problem starts when the same person is always the one making sacrifices.

Maybe you stop seeing your friends because your partner doesn't like them. Maybe you abandon a hobby because they think it takes too much of your time. Maybe you stop dressing a certain way because they don't like the attention it gets you. Maybe you move cities, change your career plans or distance yourself from your family because it's easier than having another argument.

Individually, these decisions might seem insignificant.

But identity rarely disappears all at once. Sometimes, it happens through a series of tiny sacrifices that are each easy enough to justify.

I'll skip this event because they want me home.

I'll stop doing this because it makes them uncomfortable.

I'll change this because it's not worth fighting about.

Eventually, you can wake up and realise you've built a relationship around a version of yourself that you don't particularly recognise.

And that's where compromise becomes unhealthy, coercive, or even abusive.

Love shouldn't shrink you. You shouldn't have to become quieter, less ambitious, less social, less political, less sexual, less religious, or simply less you to make someone comfortable.

Consideration for your partner's feelings shouldn't mean constantly asking: What version of me will make this person happiest?

A relationship isn't supposed to be a personality makeover.

Of course, relationships inevitably do change us. That's called growth. The people we love can challenge our assumptions, introduce us to new ideas and encourage us to become better versions of ourselves.

But are you changing because you want to? Or because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't?

Sometimes, there simply isn't a compromise.

If one person wants children and the other absolutely doesn't, there isn't a magical third option where everyone gets 50 percent of what they want.

If one person wants to live overseas and the other never wants to leave their hometown, someone will eventually have to make a significant choice.

Meeting halfway may not solve the underlying conflict.

As hard as it is, sometimes love isn't enough to make two incompatible lives compatible.

We're often sold the idea that if two people love each other enough, they'll figure it out. That love is worth fighting for. But love doesn't automatically eliminate fundamental differences.

And sometimes, the healthiest compromise is no compromise at all.

It can mean accepting that you want different things and walking away before resentment takes over.

Your fundamental values aren't bargaining chips.

The healthiest relationships aren't necessarily those where two people have managed to eliminate every difference. They're the ones where both people can remain whole while making room for someone else.

Joanne and Noah's story ultimately works because neither person has to completely disappear for the relationship to survive. They have to confront the uncomfortable reality that loving someone doesn't mean getting to redesign them.

And perhaps that's what compromise should really be.

Not how much of myself can I give up for you? But how can we build a life where neither of us has to?

If you feel like you're being coerced, forced to change, walking on eggshells, or unsafe in your relationship, there are people and services who can help.

Love Creep Resources and advice for people to identify when romantic behaviors can become emotional abuse and coercive control.

Youthline New Zealand organisation which provides free, confidential mental health support and counseling for young people aged 12 to 24.

Free 24/7 Helpline: 0800 376 633 Free Text: 5234 WhatsApp: 09 886 56 96 Webchat: Youth Counselling

TalkCampus If you’re a university student, check if your university is registered with TalkCampus—a 24/7 mental health support app. Students can access online support from anywhere, at any time, for as long as needed.