To be fair, that answer wasn't originally mine; it came from a book on relationship advice I read maybe 25 years ago. I had recently ditched a relationship where I was paying for everything because she wanted to demonstrate her "financial independence" from daddy - the same daddy who flew us to Kauai for two weeks for her graduation, the same daddy who guilt-bought cars for his kids.
The advice came from their take on how unequal financial partners can have an equal relationship - if she's a barista and he's an investment broker, it's pretty dumb to expect them to split the tab down the center. What's important is that both partners feel they're on an equal footing, so sometimes she treats at Wing Stop, sometimes he treats at Ruth's Chris. The argument went further: when cohabiting, there should be a joint account and two private accounts so that the money responsible for maintaining the mechanics of the relationship is sorted while the money responsible for maintaining the joy of the relationship exists within each partner's sphere of autonomy.
I've seen a lot of relationship structures. I've seen a lot of different ways people make each other happy. And the through-line on "unhappy" is always one partner giving more than they think they're getting. There's no point in arbitrating where that line is or how much laundry-folding equals one mowed lawn or whatever; what matters is that whatever one partner needs is given freely by the other.
You want an example? My wife's needs are simple: (1) don't fuck with her pillow (2) don't leave your socks in the living room. Need something ornate sewn by the evening? No problem. On the other hand, she lives in dire fear of the written word so if I vomit 250 words for a job posting, she sees that as saving her days and days. It would take me several weeks to accomplish anything with fabric but I can spit out limericks in near-realtime - what I give up is nominal but it means the world to her, what she gives up is nominal but it's huge for me.
(1) don't fuck with the pillow (2) don't leave your socks in the living room is much more achievable to me than (A) guess what mood I'm in and respond properly or else I will rip the remote from your fingers and fling it at the wall without so much as a word of warning BUT
I have seen, been around, befriended and counseled people who fucking need to scratch that crazy-ass "I must date an unstable histrionic bitch" itch.