Growing together
I have a favorite people-watching game to play at restaurants: Observing the romantic couples in the dining room, I try to guess what number of dates each pair is on right now. With the help of my willing dinner companions, we study the tables for emotional chemistry and clues that lock down the number.
Tentatively studying the menu? First date. Apprehensive handholding or full-blown flirting? Second and third. After the three-date milestone it’s harder to pin down a number, so my friends and I generalize: they’re “dating” or “in a relationship.”
Skimming over some assumingly long-term couples during a recent round, a trend started to reveal itself. From clothing to mannerisms, these couples seemed to share more than mutual affection — couples in more than the emotional sense. Their body types, clothing, style, mannerisms, perhaps all of the above,
would match.
Sharing this observation with a friend, I expanded beyond independently-shared characteristics. She agreed with my hypothesis but also pointed out that most couples, mostly subconsciously, seem to morph into similar people as the
relationship develops.
Is this part inevitable and instinctive? When you spend more and more time with someone, it seems many aspects of your previously-independent worlds would naturally combine. Shared ideological influences may guarantee similar reactions to events and conversations, while digging deeper into someone’s past may alter one’s look at
the future.
The commitment-phobe in me began to rear its ugly head. Where was the independence? And most importantly, where does it stop? The thought of losing a part of who I was pre-relationship is terrifying.
But then I began to think of everything you would get in return. Giving up a part of your life to another human is scary, and adapting to the relationship is hard. But that’s the beauty and risk of being bonded to another: you lose bits of who you once were, but hopefully — luckily — you will gain so much more in return.






