Perks

The beginning of a relationship is worlds away from how it ends. Even the less pretty days in the trenches are not an accurate foreshadowing of how it will look when you hear the death knell. It’s never fair to compare something new to something road-tested.

While my experience with new relationships wouldn’t fill an encyclopedia, or even a composition book, I am remembering what it’s like to try something, or someone, new. I feel pressed for time on most days, with my kids, work, and personal life jockeying for position, so when I started dating I was very clear I did not have time to adopt an adult child. Many men were clearly looking for someone to take care of them, and I did not have the bandwidth. Instead of, “what’s your favorite movie?” it was “can you cook? can you fix things?” One man responded with photos of things he’d built when I asked if he was handy (honestly that response could have been horrendous because the question was poorly worded, so kudos to that man for sidestepping a disaster).

Attempting to be your best self around someone you’re trying not to alarm is exhausting, but we do it to get people invested. If you popped up on a dating app as your long-married self, you would have a very different outcome. The first few dates its opening doors and picking up the check for men, full hair and makeup in a carefully chosen outfit for women. As you spend more time together, the stakes get higher, and you continue to try and prove yourself as a worthy partner. The new partner says, “let me help you with that,” and the spouse of over a decade says, “why don’t you just Google it.”

You can’t survive always acting like a low maintenance, very chill, spontaneous woman forever, or at least I can’t. I don’t even know how convincing it was to begin with, but after a while the facade starts to slip. We have not arrived at sweatpants and cheeto-stained fingers yet, but no one is under the illusion I am rational on every day of the year. Five dates in and I could still get by like, “emotional outburst? I don’t know her,” or “of course my nails are always freshly painted” but we are long past that. Gone are the days when we are entirely put together for a night on the couch, and instead we are badgering each other to make a specific plan because the full hair situation is a whole production if we’re just staying in, so maybe give me an idea of how much effort to put in, okay?

I recently switched cell phone carriers and shopped around for one that had the best deals for new customers, and it was a lot like my experience with dating. What perks do you offer new clients that will inevitably expire after the one-year mark? Do you carry suitcases and groceries? Do you double as tech support in an emergency? Bonus points for acting like it was a real puzzler to help me save face, even if all you had to do was reboot. Do you offer your date the one open seat at the bar? Do you reach out your arm to protect me in a crowd? Do you pretend my updates about family and work are fascinating? Do you ask me to repeat something you didn’t hear, or just hope it never comes up again so you can get to the end of my monologue faster?

The generally accepted expiration for new member benefits has elapsed, but I retain all the perks I was offered day 1, with some new ones that have come with trust and intimacy over more than just a few dates. In the beginning, I had no concept of “long term.” I was just trying to survive a first date. I assumed I would have to switch carriers once it became clear how much baggage I came with, because frankly, it’s a lot. And the more time I spent with someone, the more they would see how unglamorous it is to be a mom starting over at my age. Sharing everything might bog down the fun parts of a relationship. Nobody wants to hear negativity in every conversation, even if it’s the truth. As someone with a chronic illness, when I was sick in past years I would get tired of hearing myself give updates with no positive outlook. But sometimes the truth isn’t cute.

“What’d you do today?”

“Kids fought all the way to and from their after school activity. Came home to a broken toilet nobody thought to mention before we left the house. One kid pulled down his shower curtain mid-shower and was inconsolable. It happened while I was curing my cast iron pan after cooking dinner so the whole kitchen is smokey. Now I am doing seven loads of laundry.”

This is not for new customers. I mean, it’s just humdrum nonsense, in the scheme of things, but it’s what I did today. New customers get, “my day was busy, how was yours?” I often worry “what’d you do today” is just an opener and he has some good or bad news to share that I shit all over with my list of kid-related bummers. I imagine he’s starting a conversation to tell me he won an award or found out a relative is ill and I respond with, “my kids are fighting and they broke a toilet.” That’s awkward to follow. When you’re married, kids and problems are 99% of conversation, and that is the context in which you exist with your spouse. The beauty of starting over was a chance to interact with adults as myself out of context for a little while. As things progress, you end up sharing what feels like a dangerous amount. An amount that will not be chill and fun and spontaneous.

Maybe the key to loyal customers is to reward people for sticking with you. Maybe we aren’t supposed to drop the initial perks when we get familiar with each other, so people feel appreciated and cared for when life is less than romantic. Nobody is nonchalant all the time. If you’re really present in each other’s lives, there will be days without the benefits you had in the beginning. There’s work, stress, kids, finances, illness, injury, and grief following us around all the time. There are new perks to finding someone who can walk with you through all that fog and wait for a moment you can feel fun and spontaneous again. Caring for those who stay is even more important than the sales pitch we’re all hawking on the first date.

Fostering the efforts of the first meetings long term is not possible every day of the year, but perhaps that should be the goal. I want to be comfortable and not hide my messy life from someone new, but I don’t want to forget who I was when we met, either. I was leaving the house alone for the first time I could recall, no baby vomit on my shirt, no grocery list in hand. I like existing out of context for a while, and am fortunate to be embraced within my full context as well, if that’s what’s on the agenda.

Here’s to being spoiled by that first date feeling a year on, and enjoying the benefits that long term companionship has to offer at the same time. To be wooed and carried at once is a treat.