Every Frida has her Diego.

In a restaurant in a foreign city with a group of friends, I’m caught off guard when the waitress approaches me with, “Excuse me, Miss. The gentleman at the far table had taken care of the entire table’s bill, and he asked me to give you this.”

She drops a folded letter in front of me.

Sweet disaster.

I sigh and sink while the women at the table gush.

I look up, our eyes lock, and I’m flashed a devilish grin.

This is the start of a sweet disaster or the art of seduction, depending on the hour or the day.

Artists are drawn to other artists, and we possibly have more dysfunctional relationships than any other humans on the planet.

Perhaps because artists are fueled by passion.

The Greek meaning of this word is “to suffer”—a contrasting understanding of this word in our modern culture.

The fires of passion can lead to heartache for those in the throes of creative synergy.

How can the artists ground themselves and choose healthy partnerships?

A healthy partnership or relationship is anxiety-free. There is no ambiguity, and there is equality in terms of energetic exchange.

These relationships differ from the fiery, spicy, and intoxicating connections that drive us truly, madly, and deeply in the depths of creative enmeshment.

The unhealthy, codependent addictive cycle of an on-and-off relationship is a roller-coaster of emotions and hormones. This is a deadly cocktail. Of course, these relationships can and do exist outside of the creative realm; however, creatives do hold a monopoly in this domain.

The only way for a person to be healthy in such a union is to walk away and go cold turkey from the seduction. We can also become aware of the red flags that are cues that a connection will be harmful prior to entering.

If there are fireworks and the earthquakes moving you at first glance, this may be the kind of thing to kindly walk away from. You might find yourself politely returning a letter to a waitress and taking the cheque while waving from a distance, or you might be dancing with your own Diego as you go home tonight.

I can relate to dear Frida. Can you?