Two things from a rant I came across by mere chance have turned my attitude around. First, this bit:

MYTH: If only I could meet the right woman, my life would have meaning.

TRUTH: If your life doesn't have meaning right now, when you're single, then a relationship isn't going to help. [ . . . ] The only way to have a happy life is to develop one for yourself, then leave an opening for someone else to come and share it with you.

Second:

Nobody gives a shit about your problems. Nobody ever will. I know that sounds harsh, but it's the reality of being a man. Want to tell people about your problems? Get a sex change. Or join a men's group; the flip side is that you have to listen to their problems, but it helps.

It's not really true, that second one -- there are people who give a shit about my problems, maybe even two shits, and maybe even sympathy and/or helpful advice -- but at the end of the day my problems are still mine.

The first one was something I should have known, of course; probably did know, once, but forgot somehow. Putting my relationship with -- let's call her Grace O'Malley -- at the center of myself was a colossal mistake. Putting any relationship with another person at the center of one's self is a colossal mistake; it's not putting the cart before the horse, it's putting the horse in the cart, or the cart on top of the horse -- something will get damaged in the process. At the center must be oneself, self-standing, making connections with others but not depending on others, or even a particular connection with one, for meaning.

Seeing this has freed my mind wonderfully, and (paradoxically) made me a better partner. Seeing Grace as a separate person, one with whom I have a relationship but is not me, not part of me, not indispensable to me, has enabled me to relax and enjoy her, and be nice to her.

This is all so banal I can hardly stand it. I sound like an adolescent. But what the hell, there it is.