Spousal Reaction

“This is…..Kyla.”

“This is my girlfriend, Kyla.”

“This is my girlfriend, Kyla. Yea, we live together.”

“This is my fiance, Kyla.”

“This is Kyla, my wife.”

Going from Step Three of the public relationship commitment scale all the way to Step Five in just over six months has made this year a funny one. I’m always at least a little interested in the way that I’m perceived, but the way that my relationships are perceived blows me out of the water.

I’ve been a girlfriend for a long time, in different varieties and to different people. I’ve been the high school sweet heart, the girlfriend his parents loathed, the reluctantly professional DD girlfriend, the fake girlfriend when my friend’s ex is around, and the last girlfriend he dated before he started dating men. All of these different girlfriend varieties have suited me fine at different times (except being loathed by parents), and I always thought that that was pretty much where my relationships might end up tapping out.

Being a girlfriend, for me, was mostly fun. Lots of affection. Lots of privacy. Lots of ability to walk away. I liked the company, and being a little sought after. If the guy was nice, it was great – and otherwise, as I have never had any interest in becoming a serial monogamist, I would rather just be by myself.

And then Mister and I started dating, and it was just different. And better.

When we moved in together, I saw that new people had a different reaction to me when they found out we were co-habitating than most had had when we were “just” dating. An “OH!” followed by some laughter would be the first reaction, followed by a “So, it’s serious then huh?”. They said it like we hadn’t been before. There was something about that cursory analysis of our relationship that really hurt me. It was like to some people I hadn’t really existed in his life until that point. All that was different was that we bought groceries together – it doesn’t take a lot to sign a lease. But the public perception of nesting was intense. My facebook was overflowing, and I was a little bewildered.

The three years that Mister and I lived together before we got engaged were wonderful, but they were also an expectation minefield . The usual badgering of “When are you going to get married?!” started in after we renewed our lease for the first time, and by the time we were on our second apartment it was at a fever pitch with some parties in my life. My close friends were great – if mostly disinterested in my relationship, they were respectful and sweet. Family was supportive and excited for me, but the co-workers, people I haven’t seen in five years, and family friends? They just couldn’t help themselves.

They needed to know when we intended to get married, and as a non traditional girl, it almost drove me crazy. When we got engaged, it was just over the top. “Everyone loves a bride!” I was repeatedly told as my small town acquaintances threatened to shake details about table cloths out of me by force – “This is the one chance you get to have to be the centre of attention for a whole day!”. I don’t think it ever really occurred to them that I might already have the attention of the people I wanted in my life.

The fuss of the wedding is now two months behind me, and while it was an amazing day – small, great food, lots of laughing – I’m glad that I’m done with being a bride. It was fun – but I’m not cut out for it. I was in this for our relationship – to formalize it a little and continue as we have been.

The reaction I get now that I’m introduced as Mister’s wife is a sweet one, overflowing with a much more quiet excitement than before, but one that is teeming with happiness for the newly wed version of us. And it comes with its own set of expectations I’m sure, but for now it’s more subdued.

It’s either that, or my favourite, “Wow, you’re married now! And you’re only like, what, 23? What are you going to do now that all the excitement is kind of….over?”. There are some questions that just don’t want an honest response.