Introduction
The partnership is a mirror of our soul – it shows who we are, how we love and what we expect
from life. But why does a partnership sometimes feel so familiar, even when it is new? The answer
lies in our childhood. The early years shape not only our character, but also the way we live
relationships. From the way we communicate in the partnership, to the intimacy we share, to the
trust we give – all of this has roots in our past. Our parents, our home, the small and big moments
of our early years form an invisible script that we bring with us into every partnership.
Why is this important? Because a strong partnership is not only based on love, but also on understanding – for ourselves and for the other person. You may have already noticed that you repeat patterns in your relationship: you keep quiet when there’s an argument, seek closeness or keep your distance without knowing why. These reflexes don’t come out of nowhere – they are an echo of your childhood. In this article, we look at how our early experiences shape the four pillars of every partnership: Communication, sexuality, trust and shared values. And the best part? If we recognize these traces, we can consciously strengthen our partnership. Because childhood may shape us, but it doesn’t determine everything.
Communication and conversation culture in a partnership
Communication is the backbone of every partnership – it determines whether we feel close or
talk past each other. But why do some people find it so easy to speak openly in a relationship,
while others remain silent or argue? The answer often lies in our childhood. The way we learned to
express ourselves as children – or not – shapes the culture of conversation that we later bring into
our relationship. It’s as if we were given a blueprint in our early years that determines how we
resolve conflicts, share needs and create closeness.
Imagine you are in a partnership and an argument starts. Do you respond with words or do you
withdraw? Perhaps as a child you experienced a home where conversations flowed – parents
laughing together, discussing, solving problems. There you learned that communication is safe,
that it connects. You will reflect this in your partnership: You talk, you listen, you look for solutions
because you know that words can build bridges. But what if your home was different? Perhaps
silence was the rule – a “shut up” when you said something, or parents who passed over conflicts
with icy calm. Then you may have learned that talking is risky, that it brings misunderstandings or
rejection. This can be seen in relationships: you hold back your thoughts, expect your partner to
guess them or fear that a frank word will destroy everything.
Childhood shapes not only whether we speak, but also how we do it. Some grew up with loud
voices – parents who shouted at each other when something went wrong. For them, arguments in
partnerships become the norm, a means of being heard. “I have to be loud for you to take me
seriously”, they think, because as a child they saw that silence was weakness. Others
experienced constant criticism: “You did that wrong” or “Why are you like that?” Later, in the
partnership, they react sensitively to every critical word or tend to blame their partner themselves – a reflex from a time when they constantly had to prove themselves. These patterns are deeply
rooted, often unconsciously, and yet they determine how we treat each other in love.
Listening, a key to a strong partnership, also bears traces of our past. Those who were ignored
as children – their questions unanswered, their worries overheard – often seek reassurance in their
partnership. “Are you listening to me?” becomes a silent question that accompanies every
conversation because they are never sure if their voice counts. Conversely, someone who has
been constantly interrupted can become impatient if their partner talks at length. “Get to the
point,” they think, because they’ve learned that their time to talk was short. These dynamics play
out every day: one partner is silent, the other talks, and both wonder why they don’t understand
each other. It’s no coincidence – it’s childhood talking.
Of course, in a partnership your imprint meets that of your partner. If you come from an open
home and he comes from a quiet one, it can grate. You want to talk, he withdraws – not out of
malice, but out of habit. But there is also an opportunity here. The culture of conversation in a
partnership is not rigid; it can grow. Those who have learned to remain silent can learn to open up
when their partner creates space. Those who have become loud can learn to listen if love is worth
it. Childhood sets the tone, but we can adapt it. A strong partnership thrives on communication
that becomes conscious – that understands where it comes from and where it wants to go.
By recognizing how our early years shape our words, we can strengthen the partnership. It’s
not about changing the past, it’s about seeing it. Because when we know why we are silent or
why we speak, we can take the next step – towards a culture of conversation that connects rather
than divides. [This could be a link to an article on “Communication tips for couples”].
Sexuality in the partnership
Sexuality is at the heart of partnership – it connects, shows love and creates intimacy. But why
do some people find it easy to open up physically in a relationship, while others hesitate or
withdraw? The roots of this often lie in our childhood. The way we experienced closeness, touch
and emotional warmth as children shapes our relationship to sexuality – not only to our own body,
but also to that of our partner. It is an invisible legacy that we bring with us into every relationship,
often without realizing it.
Imagine you’re in a partnership and intimacy doesn’t always feel natural. Maybe you crave
closeness but stiffen up when your partner touches you. Or you enjoy sexuality but find it difficult
to share your desires. Where does this come from? Look back to your early years. Was your home
a place full of warmth – hugs goodbye, a pat on the head when you were sad? Children who grow
up like this learn that touch is safe, that it brings security. In a partnership, sexuality becomes
something easy for them, an expression of trust and love. They can give themselves without fear
because they learned early on that closeness is not a threat. But what if this warmth was missing?
Perhaps your parents were distant – no hugs, no comfort, whether because of culture or their own
insecurity. Then you may have learned that touch is rare, perhaps unsafe. This can be seen in
relationships: you want intimacy, but part of you keeps your distance because your body
remembers to be cautious.
Childhood also shapes how we express sexuality in partnerships. Some grew up in a home
where physicality was taboo – no conversations about the body, no sex education, just silence.
These children often carry shame with them, a quiet voice that says: “That’s not right.” Later,
sexuality becomes a challenge: they want passion, but struggle with an inner resistance that they
can’t always grasp themselves. Others experience closeness as something conditional – a hug
only as a reward, a kiss only if they have been “good”. This can be reflected in the partnership:
Intimacy becomes a performance, something you have to earn, rather than something that just
flows. These imprints influence how free or inhibited we feel when it comes to sexuality.
The ability to talk about needs also has its roots in childhood. Anyone who learned as a child that
their wishes were ignored or rejected – a “You don’t really want that” – may remain silent in
partnership. “What if my partner thinks I’m weird?” This fear makes it difficult to talk about
preferences or boundaries and can limit intimacy. Conversely, someone who has been
encouraged to show their feelings may live sexuality more openly. They say what they like and try
new things because they don’t fear rejection. These differences come together in a partnership:
one person speaks, the other remains silent – and both wonder why the chemistry sometimes
falters.
The emotional side of sexuality is just as important. In a partnership, intimacy is more than the
body – it is trust, connection. Anyone who was often alone as a child – emotionally or physically –
may seek closeness but not fully accept it. “Will my partner stay with me?” This insecurity
resonates, even in bed. Those who felt secure, on the other hand, experience sexuality as a
bridge that strengthens the partnership, without doubts or walls. These dynamics show how
deeply childhood influences our most intimate moments.
But the past is not a cage. Sexuality in partnership can change when we understand where our
fears or freedom come from. Perhaps closeness was lacking back then – that doesn’t mean it’s
impossible today. With a partner who shows understanding, we can learn to open up, step by
step. Childhood sets the keynote, but we write the melody together. [This could be a link to “Tips
for more intimacy in a relationship”].
Trust and loyalty in a partnership
Trust and loyalty are the foundation of every partnership – they provide security, create
closeness and keep love alive. But why do some people find it so easy to trust in a partnership,
while others are constantly doubting or testing? The answer often lies in our childhood. The
experiences we had as children with reliability and loyalty shape how we give trust and expect
loyalty – or how we question it. It is as if our early years gave us an inner map that shows us when
we can let go and when we are better off remaining vigilant.
Think about your partnership: How do you react when your partner comes home late? Do you
give them space or do you look for evidence? Look back to your first relationships – with parents,
siblings, important people. Were they there when you needed them? When you cried, did they
come to comfort you? When they said, “I’ll be back”, did they keep their word? Children who
grow up in such an environment develop a deep basic trust. They learn that people stay, that
promises count. This is evident in relationships: they open up without fear, expect loyalty because
they have experienced it themselves and see loyalty as something natural. But what if this
security was missing? Perhaps you have experienced parents who promised and never came – an
“I’ll be right there” that never materialized, or a silence where words should have been. Then you
have learned that trust is fragile. In your relationship, you check for signs of betrayal because part
of you is always expecting disappointment.
Childhood also shapes what we understand by loyalty in a partnership. Some grew up in a
home where loyalty was unshakeable – parents who stuck together no matter how stormy things
got. They saw that loyalty meant staying, even when it was hard. In partnership, that becomes an
expectation: you give your all and hope for the same in return. But imagine a child who knew
betrayal – a parent who left, another who lied, or friends who betrayed secrets. For them, loyalty
becomes a test: “Can I trust you, or will you let me down too?” In a relationship, they are vigilant –
one unexplained phone call, one small excuse, and mistrust starts to grow. Not because the
partner is to blame, but because childhood has taught them that loyalty can break down.
Our reaction to insecurity also has roots in the past. Anyone who was often alone as a child –
emotionally or physically – brings this into the partnership. “Will you stay with me?” This
question resonates, even when everything seems fine. They seek closeness to reassure
themselves or withdraw to protect themselves. Conversely, someone who felt safe as a child can
live trust more easily – they don’t doubt because they never had to. In a partnership, these worlds
collide: one trusts blindly, the other constantly checks. It’s not an argument about character, but
an echo of what each has learned. The dynamic can be challenging, but it shows how deeply
childhood shapes our bond.
How we deal with mistakes is also a childhood legacy. Those who experienced deception – such
as parents who promised something and then kept quiet – become sensitive to dishonesty in
partnership. A little white lie, which is harmless to others, becomes a threat because it touches
old wounds. Others who have known consistency forgive more easily – they see mistakes as the
exception, not the rule. These differences play out in everyday life: Do you check your partner’s
cell phone, or do you give them freedom? Your reaction has less to do with him than with what
you have learned about trust.
But this legacy is not a shackle. Trust and loyalty in partnership can grow when we recognize where our fears come from. You may have learned mistrust – that doesn’t mean you have to keep
it. With a partner who shows patience, you can find new security. Childhood may shape us, but
partnership gives us the chance to redefine ourselves. [There could be a link to “Building trust in a
partnership” here].
Shared values, goals and dreams in a partnership
A partnership is not just about feelings, but also about what connects two people – values they
share, goals that drive them, dreams they see together. But why does a partnership sometimes
feel like a harmonious interplay, while in others it drifts apart? The answer often lies in our
childhood. The values we adopted as children, the goals we were taught and the dreams we were
implanted with shape the direction we take in our partnership. It is as if our early years gave us an
inner compass that determines where we go and what is important to us.
Imagine you are in a partnership and you have different ideas about life. You want a quiet
home and lots of time together, while your partner is striving for a career and success. Where
does this difference come from? Look back to your childhood. Perhaps you experienced parents
who lived modesty – evenings together, little ambition, a focus on family. They taught you that
happiness lies in closeness, and you carry this value into the partnership. Your partner, on the
other hand, might come from a home where work was everything – parents who worked overtime,
who talked about ‘achieving more’. For them, goals are the core of life. This is evident in your
partnership: your values clash, not out of a desire to argue, but because you have brought
different blueprints with you.
Childhood also shapes how we approach dreams in partnership. Those who grew up in an
environment where imagination was encouraged – “You can do anything!” -often brings optimism
with them. In a partnership, they will make plans: “Let’s travel, build a house, dare to do
something big.” But what if you learned as a child that dreams are dangerous? Perhaps you
expressed ideas and were laughed at – “That’ll never work” or “Stay on the ground”. Then you
learned to think small, to stay safe. In a partnership, you hesitate and only half agree to big visions
because part of you expects failure. This dynamic can be inspiring – one person dreams, the other
is grounded – but it can also cause tension if the compasses are not aligned.
The values we cherish also come from our past. In a partnership this becomes clear when it
comes to family, freedom or security. Imagine a child who grew up in a close-knit clan – Sundays
with relatives, rituals, cohesion. For them, family is a cornerstone, and they expect the same in a
relationship: shared traditions, closeness to loved ones. But what if your home was different –
chaotic, distant, or you were often alone? Then freedom could be your highest value. In a
partnership, you are looking for space, not commitment. When these values collide – one wants
roots, the other wants wings – childhood becomes visible. It’s not an argument about right or
wrong, but about what everyone has learned as “normal”.
How we set goals also bears traces of our childhood. Some saw parents who worked hard, made
plans, celebrated successes. In partnership they bring structure – they plan the next step, the
next few years. Others grew up in a household where the day mattered, not the future – no plans,
just spontaneity. In a partnership, they live in the moment, and that can grate: “Why do we have to
fix everything?” These differences show how deeply the past influences our idea of “growing
together”.
But we are not prisoners of this imprint. Some consciously break free – those who have
experienced confinement seek freedom; those who have known chaos long for order. In
partnership, two such stories come together, and they decide whether you move forward
together or lose your way. If values and dreams fit, childhood becomes a strength – it gives you a
common language. If not, it becomes a task: understanding where the other comes from and
finding a new path. The past may set the tone, but the future of the partnership is in your hands.
[There could be a link to “Setting goals as a couple” here.]
Conclusion
Our partnership is a dance of past and present – shaped by the traces of our childhood, which
we often only recognize in love. The way we communicate, share intimacy, give trust and pursue
common goals in our partnership has its roots in our early years. The conversations we heard, the
closeness we felt, the security we found – or missed – all shape the way we love today. In every
partnership, two stories come together: your imprint and that of your partner. Sometimes they
harmonize, sometimes they clash – but this is precisely where the depth of a relationship lies.
Childhood explains why we act the way we do in partnership – why we keep quiet or talk, seek
closeness or avoid it, trust or doubt, dream or hesitate. But it is not a fixed fate. A strong
partnership grows when we see and understand these traces. We can learn to open up our culture
of conversation, live our sexuality more consciously, build trust and realign our values. The past
gives us the first brushstroke, but we paint the picture of our partnership ourselves.
In the end, partnership is an opportunity – not just to love, but to grow. By reflecting on our
childhood, we strengthen the connection to ourselves and our partner. The roots may lie deep, but
we decide together how to reweave them
