Byline: How a Lobster Taught Me Everything I Need to Know About Relationships (No, Really)

When a Lobster Stole My Heart (Not Literally, Thankfully)

Picture this: It’s late August in Bar Harbor, the rocky coast gilded with the soft glow of a setting sun. I’m standing knee-deep in a tidepool, soaked to my shins, carefully watching a lobster shuffle sideways in its briny motel of seaweed and barnacles. I’d been coaxed out by the promise of my mom’s famous blueberry pie waiting in her bed-and-breakfast kitchen, but somehow, I got stuck here, utterly entranced by this bronze-shell beauty.

If you’re now questioning my social life: fair. Even I didn’t expect to have a profound epiphany about love and life courtesy of a crustacean. But as I watched its awkward, calculated movements that day, a very weird thought crossed my mind: Lobsters are basically the ghostwriters of human connection. Yep, I said it. Stick with me. They’ve been quietly holding the answers to our relationship struggles this whole time—claws, antennae, and all.

Love at First Snap (or How We Get in Our Own Way)

Let’s start with the lobster’s claws. Did you know lobsters have two different ones? A crusher claw for breaking shells and a pincer claw for delicate, precise work. It's a survival tactic, sure, but as I stood there, I couldn’t help but think about how this duality shows up in our relationships.

Sometimes, we wear the crusher claw—tough, defensive, unwilling to crack open our vulnerable side. We build up walls, ghost each other, or get stuck in the belief that opening up will only land us in heartbreak territory. Other times, we overuse the pincer claw. We tiptoe, analyze texts like we’re solving a crime, and second-guess everything until we’re emotionally drained. Sound about right?

The magic, though, lies in balance. The lobster doesn’t abandon one claw for the other—it adapts, switching between boldness and finesse when the moment calls for it. Relationships thrive on something similar: knowing when to stand your ground and when to tread carefully.

Actionable Takeaway:
- Pay attention to what your “claws” are doing in love.
- Ask yourself: Am I being overly defensive when it’s safe to open up? Or am I overcomplicating something that just needs a little trust?

Clingy? No, It’s Just Molting Season

Here’s the thing that really got me: Lobsters molt to grow. They shed their old shells—something protective but now too small—to expand and thrive. But in the interim, before their new exoskeleton hardens, they’re completely exposed, floating around like squishy ocean marshmallows. Vulnerable to predators. Feeble. Utterly unarmed.

Sound familiar? Being human is basically one big molting season. Whether it’s making new connections, navigating a breakup, or deepening a relationship, growth requires shedding what no longer fits. But, boy, is it scary. Vulnerability feels like sticking your underbelly out in open water. And yet, it’s what allows us to grow closer to someone—or to ourselves.

Even when we can’t see it, discomfort is the price of expansion.

Actionable Takeaway:
- Embrace the mush. Seriously. Acknowledge that you can’t harden too soon, or you’ll miss your chance to grow.
- Instead of rushing to be the “perfect partner” (or person), give yourself the grace to stumble, wobble, and regroup as your inner “shell” strengthens.

When We Get Stuck in a Lobster Trap

You know those old wooden lobster traps my dad used to show visiting tourists? Yeah, sometimes, that’s us. Not literally, of course, but think about how often we trap ourselves without realizing it. We get caught in cycles: picking the same kind of people, falling for the same red flags, or staying in relationships that stopped serving us seasons ago.

The lobster doesn’t choose the trap; it just gets caught in it. Us? We walk right in sometimes, all on our own. One wrong swipe on the metaphorical trap door, and suddenly, we’re convincing ourselves that someone who “kinda likes us but also might still be hung up on their ex” totally has soulmate potential. Pro tip: they don’t.

Actionable Takeaway:
- Break the patterns. Reflect on what kind of “traps” you keep walking into in your dating life—or your habits in relationships—and make space for something healthier.
- Reminder: If they’re only breadcrumbing you, you’re the lobster, and they’re the 200-year-old fisherman who should’ve retired already.

The Real Long Game (It’s Not Just for Lobsters)

There’s one last lobster fact I have to share: They’re romantics, in their own bizarre way. Lobsters are often unfairly romanticized (thanks, Friends, for that “You’re my lobster!” hype), but here’s the thing—when they pair up, they play the long game. Some studies suggest lobsters can form bonded partnerships, because even in the deep, dark ocean, connection matters. Who knew?

Human love, though, isn’t quite so straightforward. It’s not a matter of locking claws and calling it a day. Relationships, both new and long-term, require curiosity. They thrive on check-ins, growth, and being a safe harbor for someone without losing sight of your own map. But most of all? They require love for yourself first—a truth that, unfortunately, most lobsters won’t confirm.

Actionable Takeaway:
- Ask yourself: How can you honor your own journey while celebrating someone else’s? Sustaining love is more than just staying—it’s staying open.
- Don’t wait for someone to “complete” you. Be completely you, and let the right person show up not to fix you, but to swim alongside you.

Maine, Moxie, and the Messy Middle

So what started as just another day tidepooling under a pastel sky turned into something much bigger. Lobsters—yes, lobsters—reminded me that relationships are weird, wonderful, and (thankfully) unpredictable. It’s going to be messy sometimes. You’ll molt, wobble, and maybe step into a few traps. But know this: Just like those lobsters finding their way under the eternal churn of Maine’s tides, you’re navigating this love thing beautifully.

And, honestly, isn’t that the point?