Is Your Relationship Transactional?
Why the right love will find you the moment you stop performing, stop keeping score, and start being the version of yourself love cannot miss - By Hiti Amin
Before we begin, I need you to be honest with yourself, because the people who get the most out of what I am about to share are the ones humble enough to admit where they have been going wrong.
If you do not have the love you want, the relationship you want, the peace you want, it is not because God forgot about you. It is because somewhere along the way you started trading. You started giving to get. And the moment love becomes a trade, it stops being love.
Let me show you exactly how this happens, and how to walk out of it for good.
Here is what happens when you apply the practises in this article, consistently:
You stop performing in relationships. Not because you have been taught a new trick, but because the mask becomes unbearable to wear once you have seen it clearly.
You stop measuring what you give and quietly keeping score of what you get back, because the moment you see love as a transaction, the joy of it dies in your hands.
You stop waiting for someone to complete you, because you finally understand that an unfinished person can only ever attract another unfinished person.
And you stop chasing, scheming, manifesting on a deadline, because you realise the real joy of the whole thing is that you do not have to know how it arrives. You just have to keep becoming the version of yourself the right person would recognise on sight.
The first lie: the mask
Think about the last time you were attracted to someone. The very first thing your mind did was ask, what is the best possible thing to say?
That question feels harmless. It is actually the beginning of every relationship problem you will ever have.
The moment you start performing, you step out of the only thing that was ever truly yours: your authenticity. You begin moulding yourself, sanding down your edges, borrowing lines that worked for someone else, all to be chosen. And here is the cruel part. It works, at first. The opening months of anything are spectacular. New relationship, new job, new friendship, everyone is on their best behaviour, everyone is hiding their flaws.
But a mask is exhausting. Nobody can hold it forever.
So somewhere around the four to eight month mark, the mask slips. Theirs, or yours. And suddenly you are looking at this person thinking, who are you? You call it toxic. You call it them changing. It is not toxic. It is just real now. You are finally meeting the actual human being underneath the performance, and you are furious, because you signed up for the edited version.
If you never wear a mask, you never have to fear the moment it comes off.
The puzzle nobody talks about
Here is where most people quietly destroy their own love life.
You meet someone and you feel it instantly, there it is, the missing piece. It feels romantic. It is actually the most dangerous thing you can believe, because if they are the missing piece, then you are admitting you are incomplete without them.
And an incomplete person can only ever attract another incomplete person. Unhealed finds unhealed. Every single time.
The healed version of you does not look for someone to fill the puzzle. They look for someone to appreciate a puzzle that is already complete. That one distinction is the difference between a partner who enhances your life and a partner you are silently begging to save it.
The moment someone becomes responsible for completing you, they feel the weight of it. And weight, no matter how much they love you, eventually makes people run.
The hug your mother never charged you for
Now to the heart of it.
Imagine your mother had charged you money for every hug she gave you as a child. A few coins per embrace. You would grow up asking one devastating question: did she ever actually love me, or was that just business?
It sounds absurd. Yet this is exactly what we do in our relationships every single day.
You give love so that it comes back. You send the kind text so they send one too. You compliment them and wait, quietly keeping score, for the compliment to return. You praise a colleague and feel something curdle in you when the praise is not returned by Friday.
That waiting, that quiet expectation, that is the tell. The moment you expect something back, you did not give. You invested. And an investment is a transaction, not love. There is no fun in it, no freedom in it, no authenticity in it. There is only an invisible ledger that leaves both people feeling cheated.
Real love, the kind that flows from a place of fullness, does not expect a return, because it already has everything it needs. It gives because giving is who you are, not because of what the giving might buy.
The next part is where the real shift happens. This is the section that changes how you walk into every room, every relationship, every conversation for the rest of your life.

