Dear Abby

I’m not a fan of recipes outside the kitchen. I raise my eyebrow at the life coaches and gurus who claim to have distilled life’s complicated mechanisms into simple, bite-size rules and principles. Self-help books are the worst gifts you could give me, and I won’t even try to hide my disappointment. I don’t believe in easy, foolproof ways to think and grow rich, get the love I want, exorcize my ex, win friends or influence people. Recipes don’t work. Mantras don’t work. Telling yourself that something is real does not make it real; it just makes you delusional and it makes Rhonda Byrne rich.

I will, however, listen to the advice of wise, experienced, well-meaning people, as long as it’s not pushed on me. I may not follow it, but I will take note of it, think about it, and maybe use it in the future. These everyday sages (not to be mistaken for the busybodies, know-it-all’s or concern trolls) who walk amongst us fascinate me. The people who let out the inescapable, uncomfortable, undeniable truths that our foolishness or vanity tries to silence. As sensitive as my ego is in general, the words of such people never offend me, because I know they come from a place of wisdom and honesty.

I’m not one of them, but I would have liked to be. I used to dream about working as an agony aunt for a big magazine and helping people with the depth and clarity of my infinite wisdom. I have played that part for my friends numerous times – without having the skills or experience for it. “Dear Abby”… but this Abby was every bit as clueless and shallow as her audience.

And now I’m playing again. I’m playing agony aunt to myself and to whomever is in for it.

“Dear Catintherain,

I have wasted a lot of time and invested a lot of hopes in relationships that drained me emotionally and for which I made one bad decision after the other. I was left with nothing other than bitterness and weariness to love again. I have recently met a man whom I think might be The One, but I’m afraid it could end up in another train wreck. How will I know if we stand any real chance to be happy together?

Sincerely yours,

Catintherain -Vancouver, BC”

“Dear Catintherain,

As I’m sure you know by now, there are no guarantees when it comes to people. A person can pass all the tests you give them, jump through all the flaming hoops and still disappoint you terribly in the end.

However, if I were to dish out some advice that might prove useful to you, I would suggest putting your relationship(s) through a few trials. Three, to be precise. Mind you that they reflect my own experiences and priorities, so I do not claim that they are universally applicable.

The first (and most obvious) test is meeting the families. If either of you lives in proximity to their family, it’s more than clear why a meeting is necessary as soon as it’s appropriate. But, even if the families live far away, and you or he won’t have to have regular contact with them, it’s still very important.

I am in no way suggesting that you judge a person by their family; God knows we all have our share of weirdos, alcoholics, oafs or intolerant people in our families, and we wouldn’t like to be judged by the way they are. However, there are other things you need to look out for: how he is around his family and how he treats you around them.

Years ago, I was engaged to a Frenchman (not that the nationality is of any relevance). Part of what attracted me to him was that he had lofty ideals of chivalry and he was constantly talking about the importance of leading an independent, vibrant and dignified life. He even had aristocratic roots and sounded like he had just descended from a 19th century novel – what bookish 22 year-old girl could resist that?

It took us two years until I finally went to France and met his parents. Though polite and affable with me, his mother had a strong hold on him, and that was very clear in his shaky, obsequious behavior towards her. My romantic hero was a total momma’s boy (he was 37 too…)! His dad was a crass cheapskate who took us to a crappy restaurant with stale food and dirty tablecloths. After all, I’m Romanian, what do I know from restaurants?

At one point during my visit, his mother initiated a chat with us and told me upfront that she thought our engagement was premature and that we should put it off. I was waiting for my fiance to say something, to stand up for me, to act like a man. He kept his eyes on the table throughout her entire speech, his cheeks all red, his chin quivering, and he did not say one measly word. Back then I felt like crying with anger and disappointment, although now I know that the revelation of his weakness saved me from a life of misery with him.

… there’s more. Beyond the visible signs of his dysfunctional relationship with his family, there was something deeper. I remember sitting in his mom’s elegant salon, having a trendy appetizer, making small talk – all normal activities- and feeling something inside that was telling me to get the hell out of there. There was something wrong with them, all of them. All my healthy instincts were telling me that something was off, not on a personal level, but in that entire bloodline. It was there, in the salon with us, hovering, like an entity that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Later I found out that serious mental issues were running rampant in his family tree: suicides, addictions, chronic depression, you name it, they had it. Last time I heard from him, they were all in therapy, popping antidepressants- he, his brother, his parents and their partners. I’d rather marry into the Addams family. I’ll never doubt my instincts again. I have learned that my inner alarm doesn’t just go off for no reason.

The second trial would be to spend a major holiday together. If you care about special moments and marking important occasions, then this is one you don’t want to skip. Now, some people may not have cultivated the habit of celebrating various occasions, and that could be due to their upbringing, stressful lifestyle, or not having had someone special with whom to hare such moments. You must not hold that against him, as long as he is open to learning and clearly enjoys it.

However, if he genuinely is the “it’s just a day like any other day” type, you might want to be careful. If you end up with him, you may be looking at a long line of lackluster birthdays, anniversaries, Christmases, Valentines and other holidays. These days that are supposed to bring a little colour to our lives may turn out to be as grey as the rest of the year.

One particular boyfriend from college comes to mind. He was a very good guy, but he was also Mr. Ultra-Casual. He scolded me whenever I dressed up, he mocked me when I set the table in a nice way – not as in crystal and silverware, but as in paper napkins and a candle. He made it clear that my wearing sexy underwear was wasted on him, he was happy to live on bread and bologna, and his idea of a holiday was staying in and zapping the remote. He was neither poor, nor cheap, but he had no festive sense at all. His Christmas gift for me was a set of meditation CDs with sounds of nature (I’m not even remotely into anything New Age) that “some guy at work was selling”. Although I cared for him, I knew we had no future. Call me shallow, but that is how I felt.

My last fiance did not want me to celebrate our first Thanksgiving together… because he decided to go on a diet that very day. Even when I offered to cook a diet menu, he still objected. Then I realized that it wasn’t really about the diet – he just found such celebrations tiring and pointless. He was happier to sit at his computer, eating from plastic containers. May the Force be with him, he was a nice man, but I think it was for the best that we parted ways.

The third test would be to go on vacation together. I’m not talking a week-end getaway here: I’m talking an actual vacation, as in more than five days, with travel arrangements and everything, preferably to a place neither of you has seen before. Being on unfamiliar territory can reveal sides of someone’s personality that may not be visible in day-to-day life.

I remember that, when I was 13, I went to the seaside with my mom and our close family friends. I had always considered them a model couple: they were smart, professionally successful, and they seemed to treat each other with kindness. Oh, boy, was I in for a  show during that vacation! They constantly bickered over everything and made each other’s days complete hell. She thought he was an inflexible grouch and a killjoy. He thought she spoiled the kids too much. He was a stern, meticulous man and a bit of a  neat freak. She brought along a ton of junk for the kids, bought some more on the trip… and decided to keep a wheel of cheese in their hotel room, for snacks. No refrigerator and no AC – this was Romania, 1996 – and she insisted on keeping the windows closed, to protect the kids from drafts. Their room stunk of cheese, sweat, algae and dirty clothes, topped with a dash of communist hotel mildew. The kids were screaming, the parents were fighting, everybody was miserable. It was the stereotypical family holiday that you may hear described in the routine of a cynical stand-up comedian. Only it wasn’t funny, because it was real.

I realized then that they didn’t really like each other. At home, they were distracted by the daily worries and responsibilities which kept the wheels in motion; on holiday, their incompatibility shone brightly and made them question their marriage. And with good reason, too. 15 years later, they’re still married and still miserable.

Another thing that can bring on interesting revelations is if something goes wrong during the trip. Delayed flights, lost luggage, messed up reservations, unexpected things that can turn your plans upside down. Obviously, no one wishes for such annoyances, but, should they happen, keep an eye open for his reaction. Will he get mad and take it out on you? If you’re the one who made the mistake, will he rub your face into it? Will he pout and refuse to be flexible? Don’t stay with a man who makes it all about him, who throws tantrums or who would ruin your holiday together just because things didn’t go exactly as planned. Stay with the man who is happy to just be with you and who is smart enough to make the best out of a bad situation.

If he passes these three tests, I say marry him. But what do I know? I suspect it’s never this simple, but maybe you’ll get lucky. If there are any other amateur agony aunts (or uncles) among our readers: please don’t be shy and share your wisdom.

Yours truly,

Catintherain”

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