Strongly Worded

A Turkey of a Conversation

So Thanksgiving rather rocked. OM joined me at my parents' on the actual holiday, and then returned to his parents' celebration on the following day, and thus pleasing everyone. He has met my parents a number of times but this was only his second (quick) visit to my hometown. We slept in my childhood bedroom, and it was equal parts weird and sweet holding hands across the gap between the twin bed and the air mattress. We whispered about the delicious meal and the interesting guests. My mom cooks a scrumptious Thanksgiving, and I felt proud and a tiny bit competitive about the feast (asking OM whether his mom makes cranberry sauce from scratch (she does). Incidentally, both OM's parents cook very well, but somehow I am loyal to--and actively promote--my own mother's cooking.).

After OM took off, I went to visit the "Bronsteins," our close family friends. Since I have no extended family in this country, the Bronsteins are my surrogate aunt and uncle. In addition to being lovely, supportive, and cool people, they hook a girl up. They own a really hip apartment in New York, and encourage me to stay there in their absence. Also, their daughter Mia married extremely well, and the Bronsteins regularly supply me with her cast-off clothing. Said clothing is almost always gorgeous, in perfect condition, created by famous designers, and selected by a Saks personal shopper. Often it is made of cashmere. A good 50% of my wardrobe comes from "Boutique Mia."

Mrs. Bronstein posits that my life is patterned after Mia's, because we are both sensitive and serious, and love also came slowly to Mia. She met her husband at age 31.

During the visit, Mrs. Bronstein reminded me pointedly that Mia and her husband met, moved in together, and married within two years. I smiled and said that surely things with OM are moving in that direction. I smiled a tiny bit tightly, because in the last few weeks probably nine people have asked us when we are moving in together/getting married, and it is getting annoying. I consider it a sign of my burgeoning mental health that I feel happy and secure in my relationship and am not obsessing about when this stuff happens. I don't understand, therefore, why other people are so concerned about the progress of our path to matrimony. I have thought a lot about why these "concerns" bug me. I know they are only signs of love and support, but I can't help but read into them a judgment: if you're not living together/engaged/married yet ... why not? Is someone Afraid of Commitment? Is it possible that you're not The One?

Mrs. B continued: "I know I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I just have to. You know all the trouble Mia had getting pregnant."

Yes. It was a multi-year nightmare that finally ended well.

"Well, it's just that she waited and waited, until she was 35, and things were so hard for her. And you know my niece Elsie? She's finally pregnant now. After five miscarriages. And they're pretty sure her baby has Down's syndrome."

I waited in horror for her to finish.

"Well, she was 32. So I just want you to keep this in mind. And not wait."

I can't remember how I responded (I'm 32 myself). I realize Mrs. B meant to be helpful. But she definitely snuffed out some of my holiday spirit.

Before ending on such a depressing note, I should add that Mrs. B is somewhat highly strung and that her outlook can be quite dark. Her 4-year-old granddaughter is currently in the running for admission at seven leading New York City preschools. Despite her sterling resume (which she seriously had to submit), her sociability (a budding queen bee, this one is), and her athletic prowess (she's a Gymboree champion), Mrs. B despairs that the tyke has no future in the arts. According to Mrs. B, herself a former music teacher, the child will mimic others' singing but does not interpret the music herself. Despite the musicality in all branches of the family. It's a great disappointment.

But what can you do?

Posted by Dori at 9:30 PM