Don’t Ask Me

When I got married, I had hoped I escaped the dreaded, inquisitive and impolite question of “When are you getting married?” that so pervaded my teens, twenties and early-to-mid thirties. No amount of praying/crying/begging/swiping left on my part would ever answer that question. Now, I’m newly married since May 5, 2017. Of course, I realized that even more questions are coming my way.

“Are you keeping your name?” Or, “you don’t have to change your name nowadays.” Well, I had no idea! I live under a rock, and have no social media or Internet access!

“Where are you buying your house?” Well, you see, while I may have a Bachelor’s degree, my particular one is not exactly opening any doors for high paying jobs here in my particular corner of the Midwest. My husband is a hard worker, but it’s not easy for a carpenter’s apprentice to get anything in today’s technical driven market…at least in our “particular corner of the Midwest.”

“When are you having children?” This has been the most painful question ever asked to me. Living with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) means that this is a question that will never have a definite answer. My husband and I entered into this relationship with that realization. I have never hid anything from him, and he still asked for my hand. The most frustrating part is not the condition, it is this repeated question, and the suggestions as to how to “cure” it. The closer the family member, the more painful the conversation is.

My question is this: When will we respect the boundaries of our loved ones’ personal lives?