Can your relationship pass the one-word test?

It takes three seconds to run it.

In Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert introduces the notion that a single word can encapsulate the essence of a city. Her friend Giulio affirms the word for Rome is sex.

"That little word—SEX—cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it—that is all anybody is doing."

Contemplating this idea, I asked myself, "What does our inability to choose the right word reveal about us?"

While individual experiences are subjective, there are patterns most locals relate to. My Italian friend from Udine concurs Neapolitans would connect the word fight with their city. They fight:

• 2 to 5% protection rackets

• An unemployment rate of around 20%

• Sports fans from northern parts of Italy who call Naples a sewer (Juventus) and home of cholera sufferers (Milan) and future members of hell (Verona).

You might not immediately think of the word fight when you visit Naples. But if your word choice differs vastly from what the locals use, you don't understand the city's dynamics. Naples sure is culinary, but labeling the city with that word shows a superficial view of it.

The concept of encapsulating experiences with one word holds relevance in our relationships.

If you and a friend use different words to describe the relationship, reconsider how much and how you interact with this person.

I had a friend I held eye contact with, mirrored their body language, and leaned towards. My breathing was always slow and steady. I felt secure. My friend behaved similarly, but upon asking him, he saw me more as a challenge. My accomplishments inspired him to innovate in his work. Like with places, misalignment in our chosen words reflected a mismatch in how we understood the friendship. My friend saw me more as part of his network, and I saw him as the recipient of five-minute voice messages and 2 a.m. memes.

Cutting ties is one option upon a word mismatch, but we can also reframe how we see the relationship. I could have seen my friend as healthy competition, but I didn't because that's not what I needed from him.

You can follow the same process to guide how much and how deep your relationship with your partner is or should be.

The one time I was heartbroken was because the woman I was dating saw our relationship as excitement, and I saw her as a partner. Our words were so distant from each other in meaning that, even though they changed for each of us, we couldn't serve our needs.

People who break up once a week—"forever"—and somehow always make up go through a similar situation. Their one word differs, but they don’t acknowledge it to avoid short-term conflict.

Mismatches in relationships of any form, we know, are expected. But we downplay how a mismatch in how two people categorize a relationship is a make-or-break point. Fear is the foundation of this emotional bottling up. Will locals see me as another gentrifying nomad? Is my marriage built upon, not unstable, but inexistent foundation? Does my routine reflect the season of my life I say I'm in? Distilling the essence of a relationship with a place, friend, or partner into a word is terrifying. But it is an opportunity to create at least a chance that the relationship lasts. You might not find what you want, but you will find what you need.