As I’ve made my way through being single post divorce, I’ve gone out with some people that my friends didn’t like. It wasn’t just that the guys had a profession my friends didn’t expect, or political views more liberal (or conservative) than my friends, or employment or marital histories (or lack of them)radically different than mine, it was that they just didn’t feel that some of the guys I went out with made sense.
Or, to be blunter, despite my own initial enthusiasms, my choices of prospective boyfriends occasionally left my intimate circle somewhere between disgusted and non-plussed.
“You deserve someone so much better,” Lisa said about one I brought over for dinner. . “He knows he’s lucky to have you, but are you getting what you want from him?”
“What do you see in him? He seems …difficult,” was my friend Meg’s comment on another man I brought to meet her.
Stephen’s comments on two of my potential boyfriends were equally negative. “He’s got bad energy and he’s just using you to avoid facing the rest of his life,” was his comment on one date. About another, he said, “This may be fun, but he’s just not your equal.”
And then there were Robin and Sean, whose comments were, basically a very non-committal, “Glad you seem to be happy,” no matter who I brought over or what questions I asked.
Ugh.
While I’m not someone who needs peer approval for my life choices (not to mention my dates), I certainly wanted my friends to like the person was seeing. Nevertheless, in each case it was clear early on that if I kept seeing the men who struck out with my friends, a certain amount of polite, amiable tolerance was what my friends would offer Mr. X. and me . There’d be no meandering off into the sunset together, happy couple and a bevy of her best friends.
Even though I told my friends that I had valid reasons for dating the men they disliked, my friends didn’t accept that argument.. They pretty much told me these prospective boyfriends were distractions from my real life’s work of finding a partner who was as bright, successful, together, motivated, amazing as they said they found me.
After a while, I became uncomfortably clear how far some of the men I went out with fell short of what my friends said I should have (though Lisa did concede I was learning from my past mistakes.) Somewhat self-consciously, I devised the four-date rule—there had to be four dates or more before friends entered the picture—And then I stopped dating for a while, so the whole thing became moot.
These questions came back to life several months ago, though, as I started going out with A, my present SO. As part of the process of our becoming a couple, I really wanted him to meet my friends. Yet, truth be told, I was a little sensitive.
What it turned out I was in deep like with someone who no one ‘got’ or thought was a good match for me? What if he was someone my friends tolerated, but basically wanted to avoid? I knew I was able to make my own choices about whom to love, but I also felt it would work out so much better if A liked my friends—and they liked him.
There was no way to move forward except to make it happen.
So, somewhat slowly and deliberately, I started arranging get-togethers. Feedback ranged from polite acceptance (“he’s nice”) to intense enthusiasm (“What a gem! Come over for dinner!”) Reassuringly, friends seem to get what I saw in him and said it made sense to see us together. Equally reassuringly, A finds many of my friends interesting.
Today, as our relationship evolves, A and I are still knitting our lives—and friends—together. Although he hasn’t met all of my friends, he’s met enough of them that I have a sense of what they think, and their support of our relationship is definitely reassuring.
At the same time, A and I are also meeting new people and getting to know them together; building a shared history based on who we are is a cool new thing that supports our growth as a couple. I know that A is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (I’m not, either), and not every friend will think he’s the greatest, but there’s enough basic connection so that it feels like bringing our worlds together can be successful.
Readers: How have you handled it when friends have not liked someone you’re dating, in a relationship with, or married to? Share in the comments if you have useful tips to pass along.
Blog posts and related links:
Confessions of a New and Improved Girl
"In his myspace now, George now lists his status thing as "In a Relationship" and his friends are "making an attempt" at accepting me...I think. I don't know exactly but they have tried striking up conversation with me a few times...some of them, I talk to Frank, Aaron and Salad...but not some of this other friends...actually...I hate most of his other friends...that's okay though because most of my friends don't like him or his friends."
Twenty-something blonde
“I am really going to try and be strong. Admitting my problem is the first step right? My friends hate him. Well, they hate how he treated me. I haven't even physically seen him in over 2 years. I will see him tomorrow night. He is going with me to the hockey game. That is casual and fun. My problem is that it would be easier to stay strong if I had other options. Other guys. But I don't, at least not right now. And that makes it easy to fall into an old rut with him.”
Love is the triumph…
“So, this former friend of mine has basically thrown the friendship of a very tightly knit group of girls out the window...all for some guy that she barely ever sees but thinks she loves. Ok, so that was a little mean. She may, in fact, love him. Who am I to judge...but love is based off of a relationship, and I don't understand how the two of them have a relationship when they never see each other.”