The term “my person” originated from the show “Grey’s Anatomy.” My own personal definition is the person you go to for everything, the person you can’t live without, the person you can’t stay mad at, and the person that supports you in everything that you do. Being someone’s “person” is a commitment. There is a very big difference between being someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend and being someone’s person. When someone is your person, you have such a deep connection and understanding of one another — you pretty much know each other like the back of your hand.
Being called someone’s person is an absolute honor. It means you are the person’s go-to. Your friendship has no limits, you will be best friends and each other’s person until the day you die, and even then, the friendship is too strong to end by even that. When you’re someone’s person, you stand by him or her through every hardship, through every phase of life, through every heartbreak, and through every argument.
He truly is my go-to for all things. We have been together, through thick and thin, going on eight years now.
The other day we were very lightly, making what-if plans for an activity that I would only be on the periphery of and, in his offhand way said, “How will that effect us?” Not “How will that effect me?” or “How will that effect you?” but “How will that effect us?”
I have been married for a very long time and in a relationship with my husband for a few years more than a very long time. We have had periods when we were an us scattered throughout out time together but it has never been a given. Our marriage is, and has been for years, like a sliver of a Venn diagram.
This is not a bad thing. I am a staunch believer in marital partners experiencing life together while still being individuals who have separate interests. No one can be all things to one person. It’s not fair to ask that of anyone. I do not believe that, once married, partners are absorbed into each other through some weird form of relationship osmosis. Two shall become one is bullshit. Two households might become one but people do not. With that background as a frame of reference, you might understand why being an us is occasionally startling, so much so that it is still drifting around my brain days later.
I genuinely believe MP has the us mindset all the time. I think about how the things I do will effect him. Of course, I do. That being said, it is within a limited framework that I ascribe the words us and we to our relationship. I’m guessing this is because we do not occupy the same dwelling. It may also be because I am not out to family as anything but pure monogamous vanilla. Additionally, I need to be sensitive to the fact that my husband is not currently dating anyone and jealousy is indeed a heartless, often indiscriminate, bitch. As a result, I have to be hyper-aware of my speech patterns lest they should be repeated in unwise company as a matter of habit.
Regardless of reason, I like the way MP startles me. I like being included in his us.