A rose by any other name

Soon after I started a new job, my mom picked up my business card and glared at it.


“What is wrong?” I asked.


“Why didn’t you write CPA next to your name.  You worked so hard for that tittle.  You should be proud of your accomplishment and you should make sure that other’s know what you were able to do.”


I rolled my eyes even though I knew that she was right.  But truthfully I didn’t care.  Titles didn’t matter to me then, and even years later as I progressed in my career, they still didn’t.


Except for one….


We dated for years.  I would accompany him to parties and business dinners.  We traveled. I was introduced to people.  As Hilary.  And only Hilary.


Never was I referred to as his girlfriend.


I guess it was better than him saying “Bob, please meet my friend, Hilary.”   But not by much.  It hurt. It stung.  It made me feel insecure.


What was I to him?  Was I a passing fancy?  Was I just a girl he was sleeping with?  Was I something more?  Or was I something less.


I understood he was commitment phobic, but why was calling me his girlfriend so hard….  Didn’t he know I had feelings too?



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