Me & you, but mostly me

R,

When we moved to Canada last summer, I was like a kid let loose in a candy store. There were festivals and fun events everywhere I looked! I didn’t have a job yet, which meant I’d all the free time in the world to check out plays and food markets. I used to play a game when I made the inevitable small talk with strangers (Canadians are so polite!) – how many sentences could I get out before bringing up the fact that I was married? 

“So, what do you do?”

“Nothing yet, I moved here last week.”

“Oh, fun! Why Canada?”

… One sentence was all I usually got before having to say, “Well, my husband’s job transferred him, so we moved here.”

I don’t mind saying I’m married, obviously, or I wouldn’t have tattooed a ring on my finger. I’m just not used to marriage being the thing that defines me. 

I had a pact with a colleague, back when we were trading witticisms about wedding photos taking over Facebook (it was like a plague!). We solemnly agreed to never inflict couple-love photos as our profile pictures, or put up lovey dovey status messages, or basically act like the world revolved around coupledom.

I stuck to that vow, because said status messages make me puke a little, and want to tell the perpetrators to get offline pronto. And because I’ve about four hundred unnecessarily tech-savvy relatives on Facebook, who are progressive enough to get how the world wide web works, but not yet modern enough to think a husband and wife should display affection on a public forum. (“She ‘likes’ everything he posts! Chee, no shame!” Direct quote.)

I also find myself rolling my eyes when strangers instantly bring up their spouse/partner and then pepper the conversation with references to them in every sentence – that was mandatory at 14, still cute at 18, but really needing you to grow-up-and-find-yourself-please at 25. So I think what I hated about my new-to-Canada intro was the fact that I could be mistaken for one of those people.

When I make small talk with strangers now, I have a glib “I’m the x-y-z at ABC company,” to the “What do you do?” question. That’s clearly my new identity elevator pitch, but it’s no closer to defining me than the line I used before. It’s an even toss-up whether I’d rather be defined by you or by my job. Nearly three years into our marriage, I may even feel affectionate enough to make one my profile picture (I noticed afore mentioned colleague has liberally sprinkled her feed with wedding photos, and I shudder to think of the year ahead). 

- A.

Honesty is the best policy… probably

R,

You’re very vocal about your dissatisfaction with ‘Something Borrowed’ being on TV every alternate weekend (personally, I think you should just be grateful we're not subjected to yet another Keeping up with the Kardashians marathon). I have nothing to say in defense of the movie, or even the book. The 5.9 on IMDB seems about right. There’s this other book by the same author, Emily Giffin, which I was reading. It’s called ‘Love the One You’re With,’ and it’s about a woman who bumps into her ex, accidentally, and then on purpose.

She was clearly asking for trouble, but let’s forget about her, and think about people whose fates don't lie in the hands of an author. Emily Post would probably advise the well-bred to steer clear of situations where they could run into former paramours, and I quite agree. However, what does etiquette demand if your paths do happen to cross? Are you meant to react at all? Treat the ex the way you’d expect your partner to, if the situation were reversed?

I know some people who say they won’t tell their future spouses about past relationships. I see their point. I’ve seen arranged marriages, where you can tell that the prospective bride/groom is great, but just won’t get why their spouse bothered seeing someone in the past, or why they’d bring it up. It’s not the done thing in India to talk about uncomfortable things, after all. It’s definitely a moral gray area though – if you didn’t do anything you’re ashamed of, why feel the need to hide it? Consider the microscopic mind space the former flame takes up in your average day, versus the mega explosion it could trigger if the topic’s brought up, and the reasoning's self evident.

I’m an advocate of selective omission. I define this as telling people what they’re capable of processing (there’s no need to tell my grandmother about what my friend got up to at the club, for instance). With India’s varying moral scales, that’s just self-preservation, assuming you want to retain your sanity. 

My only concern with the arranged-marriage-selective-disclosure scenario is that it could set the precedent until you’ve completely reinvented yourself for your spouse. A lifetime is a long time to be someone else convincingly. I can’t imagine the fireworks that would fly if news of a former flame slipped out after two years of marriage, instead of on the second date pre-marriage.

As you know by now, and probably regret at times, there are absolutely no omissions when it comes to me and you. With the amount of sleep talking I do, you’ll probably learn all my deep, dark secrets anyway.

- A.