About situationshiphelp

One editor signs this site, under a pen name. The pages here stand on checkable things — named sources, exact survey wording, dictionary entries — rather than on a persona telling you what to feel. The same standard applies to language claims: when this site says "situationship" is a documented word, that traces to Dictionary.com, 2026, quoted directly rather than paraphrased from a secondary listicle.

I edit for this site, and the one thing behind the name is that I have been in one. I am not going to tell you about it. Not out of coyness: the details would be the least useful part, because the particular shape of mine is not the shape of yours, and an anecdote offered as evidence is exactly the move this site exists to avoid. What the experience left me with is narrower and more portable — a sharp ear for the moment a question gets answered warmly and not at all.

That is why the pages here are built in two halves that never touch. First, what is this: a question about things you can actually check, such as whether the arrangement has ever been stated out loud, whether both of you would answer the same way if asked separately, and whether any plan reaches past the near term. Then, and only then, what you want to do about it — a question nobody else can answer for you, and one with more than one honest answer. Some pages here are about staying and changing the terms. Some are about leaving. One is about telling those two apart.

And here is the thing this site refuses. It will not call an undefined arrangement normal, and it will not call it a failure either — both are verdicts dressed as descriptions, and neither survives contact with an actual situation. It will not tell you the other person is careless, is wasting your time, or does not respect you: those are conclusions, they belong to you once the facts are straight, and they are not a website’s to hand out. It will not print a script for making somebody commit. And where a question is about anxiety, depression or anything a professional should hear, a page names the kind of help and stops rather than continuing in a softer voice.

Theo Lanyon is a pen name, and it belongs to this site’s editorial team rather than to a biography you could look up. The name exists so that a page has somebody answerable for it, and not to lend a page weight the text has not earned. There are no credentials behind it: nobody here is a therapist, a counsellor or a coach, nobody here has trained in any method, and no page is written as though otherwise. The portrait at the top of this page is not a photograph of a living person — it is an illustration generated with an AI tool, labelled as one wherever it appears, and it is there to give a byline a face rather than to tell you whose. What the name does not claim is a case history: there are no dates, no durations, no city, no employer and nobody else’s name behind it, no reader is quoted anywhere on this site, and nothing here is offered as evidence because it happened to somebody on the masthead. What it does claim is one thing and one thing only — whoever edits these pages has been in an undefined connection, which is why the site asks what has been said out loud rather than what anyone must have meant. Intent is not readable from the outside, so no page here tells you what the other person meant or what they are like, and where a question is about anxiety, depression or anything a professional should hear, a page names the kind of help and stops. Drafting is AI-assisted and human-edited, every figure is traced to the organisation that published it before it may appear, and if a sentence here is wrong the fastest route to fixing it is hello@situationshiphelp.com with the page address and the sentence you are disputing.

The same rule stated as policy, with what it forbids: bylines and pen names.