I’ve begun dating someone new – and I’m keeping him a secret. No, I’m not having an affair and there’s nothing elicit about our liaison. Why, then, is mums the word? I’ve come to the realization that my relationship trouble starts to bubble once “others” are invited in. Things are fine and dandy until I introduce him to the friends and family. For example, I have a dear friend who dislikes 50% of the guys I bring ‘round. She also says, within two minutes of me announcing I’ve met someone, “what’s wrong with him”. She has a belief that I find fault in every man I date and she wants to know what I don’t like about him. So, right out of the gate, she has me thinking about his negatives (and, yes, EVERYONE has negatives) and there’s a 50/50 chance she won’t get along with him anyway. Even though it’s not high on MY agenda, she looks at each of my new paramours as a potential husband and so she is either quick to try to push us towards something serious or dismiss him if it wouldn’t work long-term. She’s like a Jewish mother in that respect. My sister, on the other hand, cannot understand why I would date anyone who’s not a wild, artsy, iconoclast at least ten years my junior. She says, “What does it matter – you’re not going to marry him anyway, right?” If he has kids or a sensible job, she dismisses him as unworthy of my affections. If I bring a new boyfriend to meet my brother’s wife and her family, the first question out of their mouths are, “when are you getting married?” I’m tired of trying to mesh my “dating” world and my “life” world. This time, I’m going out with him, we’re having a good time and friends and family be damned.
We’ll see if this works any better.