!function(n){if(!window.cnx){window.cnx={},window.cnx.cmd=[];var t=n.createElement('iframe');t.display='none',t.onload=function(){var n=t.contentWindow.document,c=n.createElement('script');c.src='//cd.connatix.com/connatix.player.js',c.setAttribute('async','1'),c.setAttribute('type','text/javascript'),n.body.appendChild(c)},n.head.appendChild(t)}}(document);(new Image()).src = 'https://capi.connatix.com/tr/si?token=ff7fdddc-5441-4253-abc4-f12a33fad58b';cnx.cmd.push(function(){cnx({"playerId":"ff7fdddc-5441-4253-abc4-f12a33fad58b","mediaId":"d5b6a577-957f-449e-b020-3f182b5c79b0"}).render("6904c9ede4b0b48d8a1c3531");});I sometimes think that much of what I look for in a relationship ― and how I show up for my partners ― is shaped by my experience as an eldest daughter.Like many oldest daughters, I grew up carrying a lot of responsibility, and I’m still learning how to put some of it down. In my own relationships, I want my partner to take the initiative and plan things. For instance, if we’re going on vacation, I’ll go in with that attitude, but inevitably I’ll cave to my eldest daughter instincts and take the lead (especially if he’s lagging). I want to share my inner world and any problems I’m dealing with, but again, I can probably handle it myself. No need to get into all that. In other words,