Pop-Cultural Representations of the “Perfect” Couple

“Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.” — Oscar Wilde

It was during Melbourne’s first major COVID lockdown that Jamie and Claire from Netflix’s Outlander first graced our home with their magnetic presence. It took about three episodes before my partner and I recognised that this, like all good shows, would be something to binge! Outlander was the new flavour of our month! Each night, we walked up to the shops to buy chips and chocolate as well as kindling and firewood to set the scene. Luckily, we had a fireplace in the lounge room. Ironically, my partner—a Scottish highlander—came to Australia to escape the harsh, northern weather. Now, in the middle of an unwaveringly cold winter in Melbourne, she couldn’t wait to lose herself in a TV series set in her hometown, Inverness, some 16,875 kilometres away. Tap those red shoes Dorothy, for there is no place quite like home!

Outlander has a unique storyline. Jamie, a rugged yet gentle and passionate Scot, falls for Claire, a soft yet equally passionate Englishwoman who balances Jamie’s drive and ambition with vitality and delicacy. Claire accidentally “falls” back in time to the mid 1700’s to the time of the Jacobite rising a political movement that supported the restoration of the senior line of the House of Stuart to the British throne. Although already married, Claire cannot help but fall in love with Jamie who, frankly, puts the rest of us men to shame. His character is, no doubt, scripted to portray the ideal man. His features reflect the epitome of natural selection: Tall, blue eyes, athletic build with a full head of hair. As someone whose hairline is receding, I can assure you the envy is real!

Jamie and Claire are masculinity and femininity personified. But they’re more than that. They’re fluid, too. Jamie has a softer, gentler side. And Claire can be powerfully strong and determined—a lioness protecting her cubs. They’re not attached to any one way of being. Who they are is beyond who others wish they were. Their love for each other is more important than anything.

As someone who is privileged to work with couples in the therapeutic space, I cannot help but analyse the two. My partner reminds me that, though the writers did a damn good job, it is just a show. Still, I am mesmerized. What is it about Jamie and Claire? Their chemistry bugs me in the best of ways, like all gripping ideas do. Scribbling in my diary, I write a few ideas down:

In the beginning of their relationship, Jamie embodies the fundamental essence of masculinity. He is strong and powerful both physically and emotionally. He is aware of his own emotional needs and leans on open, honest communication and introspection to meet them. He is goal-oriented and forthright, a man of his word. He is a gentleman of complete integrity. He holds space for others because he can, because he has the capacity to. Allowing time for oneself affords time for others. He can be trusted. The viewer feels it and so does Claire. She recognises that so long as she is with him, she will be safe—safe to explore her own femininity, the greatest and most divine masculine gift.

Claire, on the other hand, is sensual, vulnerable, and therefore powerful in her own right. Her femininity leads through invitation, not forthrightness. She desires to be taken and harnesses her feminine gifts for the sake of others and herself. Many of the most intimate scenes in Outlander portray the dance of feminine invitation and allurement, and masculine ambition. When romance ensues, their kindling desire climaxes and both Jamie and Claire become one, having merged into love.

Unrealistic or Attainable?

One cannot help but compare one’s own relationship to theirs. How does Jamie always know the right thing to say to soften Claire and build intimacy? Why is Claire so able to offer appreciation and validation right when Jamie needs it most? They’ve only just met; so why does it look like they’ve been perfecting their relationship for decades? Despite the suffering of the times, they always seem so close and committed to one another. How? Ah well, it’s just a show. Not something to take seriously . . .

About a year passes and Jamie and Claire’s mesmerising chemistry is forgotten. My partner and I have moved house, fostered a dog, started a new business and I’ve gone back to university. A show titled Yellowstone is recommended. My partner likes horses and I like fighting and guns. It seems like the perfect fit. We decide to give it a crack. The plot, once more, is unique: Set in present day Montana, the protagonist John Dutton is determined to do whatever it takes to protect the family ranch from property developers, thieves and criminals, entrepreneurs and billionaire moguls. It is his life’s legacy. His daughter, Beth, sees it as hers too.

We’re about three episodes in: Beth starts flirting with a character named Rip. Before long, both characters are romantically entangled in the most idyllic of ways. The script writers build their desire and attraction for one another over many episodes and, just when you think their relationship is lost, they kiss! And the crowd goes wild! Like Rachel and Ross—right at the buzzer!

Jamie and Claire burst from my unconscious mind. That old idea of mesmerising, tantalising sexual chemistry hits me like a fly swat. It bugs me. What is it about Beth and Rip? What are they doing? Can this level of passion and trust be achieved for the rest of us? In a world where over one in two marriages end in divorce, is it possible to actually live happily ever after?

I can’t help it. The episode finishes and I tell my partner I have unfinished business. I scurry upstairs to find my psychoanalytical hat. It’s dusty but still intact. It fits! I put it on neatly and get to work, scribbling in my diary:

Rip is a rock and Beth is the wind. Rip is cool and steadfast whilst Beth shocks, rejuvenates and terrifies. Rip, alone, might be seen as dull as his conscientiousness is filtered solely through his work as a cowboy. He never leaves the ranch and is up before the sun to fulfil his duty. Beth, on the other hand, is rarely calm. She’s emotional to the core and harnesses her emotions for both good and evil. Rub her the wrong way and you’ll be sure to feel her wrath! She wears her heart on her sleeve.

Both characters possess unsustainable, destructive personalities; and yet, when they’re together, their relationship works like no other. Together, they are yin and yang, the perfect circle. And just like the ancient Chinese symbol for interconnectedness, there’s enough femininity in Rip as there is masculinity in Beth for both parties to dance the eternal dance. In other words, both lovers accept and appreciate their partner’s “dark side” because they see aspects of themselves within the other.

The Secret Sauce that isn’t that Much of a Secret

I read my partner the notes I’ve written down. I do my best to act-out the particularly emotive words for added effect. She looks at me like I’m reading Mandarin. When I’m done I ask her what she thinks. In a way only she could, she tells me how unnecessarily complicated I’ve made the whole thing.

“Who cares about masculinity and femininity and ‘the merging of the two into a pool of whatever you said’.”

She looks me dead in the eyes and says, “It’s simple: They just get along.”

We both start laughing. Since we began dating, we’ve laughed about how complicated I can make things at times; but also how she can miss the point when things are overly simple. We like the balance.

Still, these idyllic representations of monogamy leave me thinking: Can envy be alchemised into inspiration? I look back over what I’ve written. I think about all the couples I’ve worked with, and the patterns we uncovered together (I’ve always thought of therapy as something akin treasure hunting!). I think about my own life and all the incredibly challenging lessons that taught me about myself and how I interact with others, as well as, most importantly, my partner. I think about what I learned in Gottman Couples training and the many experts I’ve interviewed on my podcast. And then it dawns on me.

What were the three keys to a successful relationship again? Gottman says it’s: Trust and commitment; physiological relaxation; and a shared vision.

I feel I’m onto something.

If you don’t have those things, relationships won’t last. Sure, I get that. But we have to want to have those things. And there’s the answer. We have to want to. 

We have to view our partners as genuinely good people worthy of putting aside our differences for the sake of what our relationship could be like if it were brilliant. For people to get along, they have to want to get along. Fundamentally, Rip and Beth and Jamie and Claire just like being around each other. It’s friendship first. Everything else is a bonus.

I look back over what I’ve written. I’m a little disappointed. I thought I was on the precipice of a great discovery, a hidden path that would show me the way to balancing desire and commitment forever more! And whilst I haven’t discovered anything new, I’m reminded of the power of communication. There’s no point reinventing the wheel. The key to healthy relationships is communication. When that’s on point, couples thrive.

Communication Wins . . . Always

Beyond the esotericism, the looks, and the background music, it’s the communication styles that make Beth and Rip and Jamie and Claire work. Because each character understands their significant other entirely, they are able to feel through the words said during times of couple conflict and grasp the deeper meaning of each other’s concern and the ways in which their needs have not been met, whether real or imagined. Fights are short-lived and are often resolved with laughter, a kiss, or a big, belly hug from behind. Rip has a wonderful ability of making Beth feel safe with humour and teasing. Claire feels Jamie’s strength because she never doubts his integrity. Conversely, Beth is Rip’s raison d’etre. She reminds him to stop, to be more present and enjoy the wonder of living. Free from want, the present moment is always enough. She is his life force, his antidote to existential, masculine self-sacrifice—a superfluous means of expedient living, day by day. She invites the Sisyphus within him to take the day off, to relax and push the boulder up the hill tomorrow. She reminds him that his suffering is a choice.

Perfection is Subjective

Effective communication is a skill, not an inherent trait. If we want to learn to play the guitar, we have to start with understanding the names of the strings. Then, maybe after a month, we might have learnt how to play a G chord. Then, perhaps after a year, we’ll be able to bust out Ode to Joy on Christmas Day and impress our families. None of us disagree here because we recognise that skill development takes time. When it comes to relationships, however, we shame ourselves, and our partners, for not saying the perfect thing or reading our minds. To me, that’s like berating ourselves for not being able to play Stairway to Heaven when we haven’t bought our first guitar yet.

There are many other “perfect” couples on TV; and, whilst I only became possessed by Jamie and Claire and Beth and Rip, the important point to remember is that we must define perfection for ourselves. We can use the intimacy or the desire in idyllic couples as a frame of reference for what we’d like in our relationships. Perhaps our lives have become too serious? If so, how can we introduce more banter and laughter? Maybe when we watch Outlander or Yellowstone, we notice how much the characters touch and embrace one another; perhaps we long for that physicality? Desire is a wonderful superpower when it comes to relationships, so long as it’s utilised correctly. When we long for sexual fantasy or romance, how can we introduce more of that into our current relationships? How can we make our relationships better than what they were yesterday by paying attention to our unmet needs—not as ammo for the next fight but as KPIs to help our situations.

The Journey is a Process of Self-discovery

We must allow ourselves to stumble up the mountain, to fail miserably, time and time again, as we climb, inch by inch, toward the summit. We must view every contentious, conflicting conversation not as a reflection of incompatibility but as a lesson that helped us grow and move forward. And we really can do that! Our attitude is a choice. Viktor Frankl, the twentieth century psychotherapist came to that belief after finding meaning whilst in the Auschwitz Holocaust camp. If he were able to view his suffering as a choice whilst navigating Hell on earth, we can too.

Whether we think Jamie and Claire or Beth and Rip epitomise relational perfection or not, one thing we can all agree on is that happiness ensues only if we tend to it, like watering plants in the backyard. And by taking that first step in our relationships, who knows how far we’ll get, how high we’ll climb! We might be playing Ode to Joy sooner than we thought.