Ah so you weren’t so quick to Schtip and are indeed interested in how new information may change the course of history?
Pat yourself on the back young Padawan, what might the butterfly effect of this moment have on the universe?
A change in the weather?
A species saved from extinction?
A step closer to identifying True North?
Worst case, clarity.
Heaven forbid, your kids never let you live it down.
The Schtipper returned my call…
“Hey, are you ok?”
“Yep… I’m ah… haha… I’m currently writing. I think I’ve noticed a pattern I’ve coined: The Schtipping Point”
75% through a cultural analysis on situationships was an odd place to start our post-mortem.
Yet we now held a social science certificate on the Plate Tectonics of Modern Dating and the layers-of-earth Schtipping Points may be constructed upon:
The Directionless-Inner-Core
Encased by the Expectations-Outer-Core
Wrapped in the Many-Options-Mantle
Beneath the Soft-Avoidant-Crust.
No wonder civilisations figuring-out-my-dating-goals experience continental-drift.
If the volcanic activity to merge two islands into a country required answers on alignment…
Perhaps we should test to see: is this anything?
But of course, you already knew this.
Perhaps you were one calendar invite away?
A night of exploration locked and loaded.
But perhaps you stopped yourself?
Not wanting to come on strong.
Thought that’d be too weird.
And so you Schtipped.
If chatting about it is weird then call me Dr. Strange.
But wait, is this pursuit even worth exploring?
Should we not accept the verdict handed down by the Internal High Court and swiftly Schtip towards a better option?
Is it worth sifting through emotional archives like therapists double-clicking trauma.zip, only to find the file is corrupted by attachment issues?
Would we rather keep our seat at the bar-of-fallen-romantics where accepting disappointment feels safer than risking disappointment?
In an era offering a buffet of suiters through a human-slot-machine, are our TikTok brains still wired for commitment?
And at what point should I check-in to Avoidants-Anonymous before I check-out entirely?
I agreed with my Schtipper.
We should Schtip.
However, in the name of Schtipology (noun: the science of Schtipping), perhaps we should, in fact, chat about it first.
But what was there to gain from this?
Did the Schtipper owe me WHY we Schtip?
Did I owe her HOW we got here?
Who knows.
Yet at the easiest of separation points, an opportunity emerged to put our heads together.
Now that we were Schtipped, and could be entirely objective…
Was this a chance to put The Schtipping Point under a microscope?
Could we uncover a modern missing piece to the puzzle of partnerships by probing compatibility on behalf of humanity?
If answers on alignment are the antidote to smooth or seed the Schtipping Point, how might we safely cease the psychic-civil-war to stay or go?
I guess someone’s gotta find out.
And so we prototyped the Schtipp-or-Schtick-Test™.
To find out what might it take for two people to chart a course for a promised land.
With our hearts strapped in like crash test dummies, accelerating towards a concrete wall, we dared to understand what might it take to fit into your life.
Scientifically: Noble and generous.
Emotionally: Playing with fire.
A couple of type-As testing to reverse engineer love.
This can only end well.
A quick refresh on the algebra of the Schtipping Point.
So we can learn to Schtip it in the face.
The Schtipping Point is the moment when the imagined future can no longer justify the present.
It strikes when someone, The Schtipper, makes the executive decision to end things with The Schtippee.
But a situationship can go one of two ways:
It can situationship-tip (Schtip).
Or it can situationship-stick (Schtick).
Therefore, does the longevity of a situ-ationship that Schticks and matures into a re-lationship then not depend on the ability of two parties to raise the axis of ‘belief in the future?’
It’s a heavy bar to bench press.
You’re going to need a spotter for this one.
And ultimately only the self can choose to get out of bed.
This would require more practice than poetry.
“Where should we begin?”
Finding a patch of grass to discuss our hopes and dreams was a bold way to move on.
Yet the brain of an entrepreneur who’s written more strategy docs than he’s had first dates began to tick.
Like researchers trying to understand their Schtip-pothesis (noun: An educated assumption that a situationship should end) from every angle, we formulated a study design, to see how fundamentalism stood up in the face of evidence.
Like two kids unlocking the layers of the babushka doll hiding life’s biggest decision, we didn't need more time, we needed more information.
Let’s start with this…
WHY are we here?
Oh god.
What’s your mission?
What do you value?
What does an exciting life look like to you?
When you think about your 80-year-old self, what do you hope they’re proud of?
Is everything on that list equal?
Do we really need to involve the RICE framework?
Or can models of prioritisation stay in the MBA world?
This was a lot of work for strangers turned Schtippers trying to turn strangers again.
Was Reuben doing the usual Reuben thing?
Over-thinking?
Hard to tell.
Will you be there when it matters?
“This is a really good question”
I scanned the list of activities I had dedicated a decade designing an intentional life around.
I guess it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if we didn’t do everything together.
I mean, was I really going to wait for a woman willing to wear whites while watching wickets with wisecracks at Wankede?
Perhaps I was retrofitting wrong.
Ok, well when would it matter if your partner was there?
When I hit a major business goal?
When I finish a race?
When I get arrested?
When I go on holiday?
When I go to sleep at night?
When I wake up in the morning?
When I get as horizontal as possible and do nothing after work?
As someone who had optimised for as much excitement as humanly possible, it sunk in that the majority of life isn’t spent completing side quests.
Did I actually need someone who was there for the mundane moments?
Perhaps their fandom at Le Tour de France wasn’t a dealbreaker?
Was a trip to watch test cricket in India just a nice-to-have?
Is it meant to take you 30 years to figure this out?
Ah well, better late than never I guess.
Like the Wicked Witch of the West, the gridlines of importance cried out “I’m melting”
But what about all the hopes and dreams I had for myself?
The mind-map of what I want.
Should I tear it up?
I don’t believe so.
But perhaps if I was going to resent someone for seemingly holding-back-my-potential, then maybe I wasn’t ready for a relationship.
Perhaps I should go live my life first.
Sorteth-thy-shiteth-outeth in the process.
Take a gap year, or a few.
Achieving said potential seemed easier than renouncing it.
Alternatively, perhaps I could find someone who wants to arrive at Grand Central Actualistation, together.
And maybe.
Just maybe.
Re-evaluate which goals I could do without.
Shit.
Was I compromising?
Chatting about it was ground-breaking stuff.
Can we figure it out together?
The real kicker.
What does a healthy relationship look like to you?
What are the biggest lessons you’ve learned from past relationships?
If you were dead broke and living under a bridge with no end in sight… What is it about your lab rat you would hang around for?
“I like your company. I’d be happy to sit and chat, maybe catch a fish, and just be together”
“Your optimism. You’d say this is great, and I’ve got a plan to get us out of here”
I sat up and looked my Schtipper in the eye.
Volcanic activity was bubbling as convergent boundaries dared to create a continental collision
‘I should have let you go when I had the chance,’ I thought to myself.
Back to the test.
What are your Deal Breakers?
If all the stars seemed to align, is there any form of krypton-ick that would tear it down?
Well first define, what is a dealbreaker.
Is a dealbreaker perhaps something so important to you that no matter who you were partnered with, even Olivia Dean or Robert Irwin, you would break up with them because of this non-negotiable?
We’ll run with it.
But how do you know what is a deal breaker?
We landed on the notion that your life simply MUST have this secret herb & spice.
If you found that some of your dealbreakers melted for the right dreamboat, ask yourself, why?
What did it take for you to compromise? Write that down.
If your answer was "...actually, it wouldn’t matter so much if…" then maybe it's not a deal breaker.
Maybe, it's just a priority?
And perhaps, you would in fact, make it work.
Alas, you may have strong opinions, but keep them loosely held my liege.
Ok, how did you go?
Did you Schtip or Schtick?
Did you find THE one prepared to work through all the summits and plummets?
Did the magic mirror push you to become a card carrying member of Actualised Beings FC?
Or are you so type-A you MUST know exactly what the next 25 years looks like?
The randomised trial of two warm blooded, stubbornly independent variables was complete.
With a 30,000 ft. view of our conclusions, we returned to the core injury:
What do you want?
And…
Can we get there together?
For two islands to survive the Schtip, and instead, Schtick…
We boiled it down to:
Valuing the same things.
Loving their company.
And even if it meant sleeping under a bridge to survive, you’d choose them.
Not entirely revolutionary.
But I suppose if you want to be great at anything, you have to find your own way there.
Finally, importantly…
At least for myself.
You no longer feel the need to live entirely for yourself.
If I had gone out into the world to fight my battles and become who I want to be… this should be easy, right?
If not? And you must be honest with yourself here… it will show up in your relationship.
As it had.
The Schtipper and I sat back and looked at each other.
Assumptions were quashed and a version of alignment was revealed.
Could the revolutionary notion of discussion actually seed the Schtipping Point?
On the cutting room floor, the sawdust told the story of two pieces of wood, shaved down just enough to bend.
But in the air, sparks hovered over the heartbeat of two trembling timbers, daring to catch.
“I think we still Schtip”
“I think we Schtip as well”
Hearts were guarded by words as chemistry of the brains were changed.
Turns out, the most dangerous thing was to love.
But since the Schtipping Point was confirmed.
Cemented.
Finito.
It’s not gonna work…
“Do you wanna make out?”
Two galaxies collided in a supernova of lust and longing.
Time stood still as we teleported.
This wasn’t a routine visit, it was as if someone had built a phone tower on the couch.
Such was the strength of connectivity.
What a waste of flesh this would have been to end things in the park.
Let alone at the voice note.
But that’s when the winds of change kicked in.
We tacked hard, and after a brief conversation, jumped HMAS Tip for a new vessel.
On a different map with a deadly drop-off at the ends of the earth.
Yet still we sailed.
And set course towards: The Fwibbing Point.
Also known as…
The Friends-with-benefits Tipping Point.