Here's a pattern I see often: someone disappoints you, and you mentally relegate them to the category of "not worth my time." A friend cancels on you twice, and they're suddenly classified as unreliable. A family member says something hurtful, and they become "toxic." A colleague fails to deliver once, and they're filed under "can't be trusted."
This binary thinking—people are either on my team or off my team—seems to simplify social navigation. But it has a cost: a progressively smaller circle as more and more people get ejected for inevitable human failings.
There's a better way to think about relationships, and it starts at the bus stop.
The Bus Stop Continuum
Imagine all your relationships exist on a continuum. At one end is a stranger at a bus stop—someone you have no history with, no expectations of, no vulnerability toward. At the other end is your most intimate relationship—a life partner, perhaps, or the friend who knows everything about you.
Between those endpoints lie all other relationships: acquaintances, colleagues, casual friends, close friends, family members at various distances, romantic partners at various depths. Each occupies a position on the continuum based on how much you share, how much you trust, how much you invest.
The key insight is that position on this continuum isn't fixed. People can move in either direction. And the movement doesn't have to be dramatic—a disappointing friend doesn't need to go from close to stranger. They can just move one notch back.
The Problem with Binary Thinking
Binary relationship thinking—on team or off team, trustworthy or untrustworthy—creates several problems:
It expects perfection. If one failure puts someone in the "off team" category, you're essentially requiring everyone to be perfect to maintain closeness with you. No one can meet this standard, including you.
It ignores gradation. People are reliably unreliable in some ways and reliably reliable in others. Binary categories can't capture "great for philosophical conversations, terrible at being on time" or "trustworthy with secrets, untrustworthy about money."
It burns bridges unnecessarily. People change. Circumstances change. The person you ejected at one point might be exactly who you need at another. Complete ejection eliminates optionality.
It isolates you over time. If you eject people for normal human failings, your circle contracts with each passing year. Eventually you're surrounded only by people you haven't known long enough to disappoint you yet.
The One-Level Adjustment
The alternative is what might be called the "one-level adjustment." When someone disappoints you, instead of ejecting them entirely, you move them one level back on the continuum.
The close friend who betrays a confidence becomes a casual friend you enjoy but don't share secrets with. The colleague who failed to deliver becomes someone you work with but don't rely on for critical tasks. The family member who regularly criticizes you becomes someone you see at holidays but don't call when you need support.
This adjustment is proportional rather than absolute. It matches the consequence to the offense. It preserves the relationship in a modified form rather than destroying it entirely.
And importantly, it's reversible. The same person who got demoted can get promoted again through demonstrated trustworthiness over time. The friend who became a casual acquaintance can become a closer friend again if they show up consistently.
Calibrated Expectations
Part of what makes this work is adjusting expectations to match the level. The mistake many people make is keeping close-friend expectations for someone they've demoted to casual-friend status. Then they're perpetually disappointed because the person keeps failing to meet expectations that no longer apply.
If you've demoted someone because they're unreliable, stop expecting them to be reliable. Enjoy what they do offer—maybe they're fun, maybe they have interesting perspectives, maybe you have genuine affection for them—while no longer depending on the specific quality they've proven they lack.
This is the opposite of "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." It's more like "now that I know this about you, I'll adjust what I expect and where I rely on you."
Strategic Distance
Sometimes the disappointment is severe enough that a one-level demotion isn't sufficient. Someone genuinely betrays you, and they need to move several levels back. That's fine. The framework still applies—you're not choosing between complete rejection and complete acceptance. You're finding the appropriate level of distance.
That level might be quite distant. It might be "I'll see you at family gatherings but won't initiate contact otherwise." It might be "I'll be professionally cordial but won't discuss anything personal." It might be "I'll acknowledge your existence but won't invest emotional energy."
These are all valid positions on the continuum. They're not binary ejection—the person is still in the picture, just far toward the bus-stop end. And they're not unconditional acceptance—you've set appropriate boundaries based on demonstrated behavior.
The Recovery Path
One benefit of continuum thinking is that it preserves a path for relationship recovery. When you've completely ejected someone, there's no graceful way back. The bridge is burned, and rebuilding requires a dramatic gesture from one or both sides.
When you've adjusted them on a continuum, the path back is clear: they demonstrate, over time, that they've changed or that the initial assessment was wrong. Each positive interaction is an opportunity to move them back toward intimacy.
This matters because people do change. The friend who was unreliable in their twenties might be solid in their forties. The family member who was critical during their own crisis might become supportive when they're doing better. Binary categorization freezes people in their worst moments. Continuum thinking allows for growth.
The Exception
Some behaviors warrant complete ejection. Sustained abuse. Repeated serious betrayal. Patterns that demonstrate fundamental untrustworthiness. The continuum framework doesn't require you to keep everyone in your life—it just suggests that most offenses don't warrant the nuclear option.
The test might be: is this a failure of character or a failure of capacity? Someone who lacks the capacity to be reliably on time is frustrating but isn't malicious. Someone who deliberately sabotages you is a different matter. The former might be worth keeping at a calibrated distance; the latter might genuinely warrant removal.
But even then, "removal" might mean "far end of the continuum" rather than "complete nonexistence." There's a difference between not investing in a relationship and actively maintaining hostility.
Practical Implementation
How to actually apply this:
When someone disappoints you, pause before reacting. The impulse to immediately categorize them as "off team" is strong, especially when you're hurt. Wait until the emotional intensity subsides before deciding on their new position.
Ask what level their behavior suggests. Based on how they've acted, where on the continuum do they belong? Not as punishment, but as accurate calibration of what kind of relationship is realistic.
Adjust your expectations to match. Once you've decided on the new level, consciously update what you expect from them. Continued disappointment often means you haven't actually adjusted expectations—you're still hoping they'll operate at the old level.
Remain open to movement in both directions. They might demonstrate they should move closer. They might demonstrate they should move further away. Stay attentive to actual behavior rather than locked into the current assessment.
Reserve complete ejection for complete necessity. If you're genuinely cutting someone out, it should be because keeping them at any level would be harmful, not because they failed to meet the expectations of a closer level.
The Richer Social World
Binary thinking creates a sparse social world: a small inner circle and everyone else as strangers. Continuum thinking creates a richer world with relationships at every level, each calibrated to what that person can actually offer.
You might have close friends you trust with everything, moderate friends you enjoy but don't rely on, casual acquaintances you're pleasant with, and people you're cordial to when paths cross. Each serves a function. Each has its appropriate expectations.
This is a more realistic model of human relationships. It acknowledges that people are complicated, that reliability isn't uniform across domains, that disappointment is inevitable, and that complete ejection is usually an overcorrection.
You don't have to fire everyone who fails. You just have to adjust where they sit on the continuum.