Cultural differences in relationships

One of the most common misconceptions about relationships is that they involve only two people. In reality, every relationship carries the weight of at least two family systems, two personal histories and often two entirely different cultural frameworks. Those influences shape what we believe love should look like, how respect should be expressed and what commitment really means.
When those worlds align, couples may barely notice them. But when they differ, the relationship can quickly become the place where those differences collide. This dynamic surfaced very clearly in sessions with Maria and Viktor on Blue Therapy. What initially appeared to be disagreements about commitment gradually revealed deeper tensions around culture, loyalty and family expectations.
At points, Maria felt caught between the partner she loved and the family system that had shaped her identity. For many couples navigating cultural differences, that feeling will be painfully familiar.
In the UK particularly, couples are increasingly forming relationships across different cultural, religious and family traditions. Diversity can be one of the things that initially draws people together.
What begins as attraction can sometimes give way to difficult negotiations around family expectations, religion, tradition and loyalty. When partners move away from their cultural legacies or begin building a life with someone from a different background, parental disapproval or tension within extended families can sometimes follow.
Respect across cultures
One of the most revealing conversations between Maria and Viktor centred on respect, and specifically how respect is expressed within Maria’s Nigerian family. In many Western relationship frameworks, respect is often seen as something that must be earned through behaviour and mutual regard. Viktor expressed this perspective clearly: in his view, someone’s age alone does not automatically entitle them to respect.
Maria’s experience of family sits within a different cultural tradition. In many Nigerian households, respect for elders is not simply a personal preference. It is an expectation embedded within the structure of family life. Younger people are often expected to demonstrate deference through language, behaviour and sometimes physical gestures of greeting.
One example is the traditional practice of Prostration in Yoruba culture, in which men may greet elders by lying face-down on the ground or bowing deeply. The gesture, known as dobale, symbolises acknowledgement of hierarchy, lineage and the wisdom associated with age.
Respect for elders is a foundational value within many communities. It reflects a worldview in which family structures are collectivist and hierarchical rather than individualistic.
When Viktor refused to participate in this tradition, the disagreement that followed was therefore about far more than a greeting ritual. For Maria, the request represented cultural continuity and respect for her family. For Viktor, it felt like being asked to perform a gesture that conflicted with his personal beliefs about equality and autonomy. What appeared on the surface to be a small disagreement was, in reality, a clash between two different definitions of respect itself.
When loyalty becomes a test
When partners feel pulled between their relationship and their family of origin, it can create enormous pressure. One partner may feel that family expectations are being prioritised above the relationship, while the other may feel that honouring their family is an essential part of who they are. This is often where couples begin to feel as though they are negotiating two competing worlds rather than building one shared life together.
The tension between Maria and Viktor did not stop at cultural differences. It quickly became entangled with questions of loyalty. Viktor wanted reassurance that their relationship came first. At times, this translated into a request that Maria show her commitment by distancing herself from family members who had not immediately welcomed him.
Maria, meanwhile, was navigating a family culture where maintaining strong ties – emotionally and financially – is often considered a normal and responsible part of adulthood. The couple even discussed Maria sending money to family members. In many diasporic communities, this kind of support is not viewed as unusual. Financial remittances can sometimes function both as economic support and as a way of maintaining connection and responsibility.
For Viktor, however, the issue became symbolic. The question was not simply about money or family visits. It was about whether Maria was truly prioritising the relationship. What emerged in the sessions was a pattern that we therapists often recognise: loyalty tests. When people feel insecure about their place in a relationship, they sometimes look for proof that they come first. Unfortunately, those tests can place the other partner in an impossible position, particularly when the request involves choosing between love and family.
The impact of early childhood experiences
As the sessions progressed, another layer of Viktor’s perspective began to emerge. He spoke about growing up feeling misunderstood and often alone. At times, he described feeling as though nobody had truly been “in his corner.” His relationship with his sisters had been difficult, and he had learned early on to rely primarily on himself. Experiences like this can shape how people approach intimacy later in life.
When someone has grown up feeling unsupported, independence can become a form of protection. Strength becomes a way of surviving emotionally. But that same protective instinct can make situations involving acceptance or rejection feel particularly threatening.
If Viktor interpreted Maria’s family’s hesitation as rejection, it may have activated a familiar story: once again, he was on the outside. Understanding those emotional patterns does not necessarily resolve the conflict. But it can help explain why certain moments carry so much weight within a relationship.
The marriage question
Underlying many of the conversations between Maria and Viktor was a fundamental difference in how they viewed marriage, especially when viewed through a cultural lens, with Maria’s family seeing this as a major point of contention. For Maria, engagement represented clarity and commitment. It was about feeling secure, recognised and seen within the relationship. For Viktor, marriage appeared less essential. While his homeland Bulgaria has a relatively low marriage rate in the EU, his stance on marriage seems to be formed individually. His perspective suggested that commitment should be defined by the couple themselves rather than by traditional milestones.
Neither position is inherently right or wrong. Marriage can represent many different things: security, tradition, partnership, social recognition or simply personal choice. The difficulty arises when two partners hold fundamentally different visions of what the future should look like.
Negotiating the Couple Deal
For Maria and Viktor (and countless couples in similar situations) going forward they will need to negotiate a new Couple Deal, which I talk about extensively in my work. The Couple Deal is explicit and implicit agreements partners make about how their relationship will not only function, but thrive – how decisions are made, how loyalty is expressed, how respect is received, and how external pressures from family, culture or work are navigated as a team.
This may include questions such as:
- How do we balance loyalty to family and loyalty to the relationship?
- What cultural traditions do we honour together?
- What expectations are we willing to adapt, and which ones are non-negotiable?
Without those conversations, couples can find themselves repeatedly returning to the same arguments, each partner defending the values that shaped them long before the relationship began.
Creating a shared culture
Couples from different cultural backgrounds often discover that the most important work is not deciding which culture should “win.” Instead, the challenge is learning whether it is possible to build a shared culture together.
That means understanding what traditions and values truly represent for each partner. It means recognising that gestures which appear small on the surface may carry deep symbolic meaning. And it means asking whether both people are willing to make space for each other’s histories while still protecting the integrity of the relationship. Love does not exist in a vacuum. It is shaped by family, culture and the experiences that formed us long before we met our partner.
The question for couples like Maria and Viktor is not simply whether they care for each other. It is whether they can create a relationship strong enough to hold the worlds they each bring with them. Only when that agreement begins to take shape can a relationship move forward without one partner feeling they must leave part of themselves behind.
