Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)
Dear Prudence,
I am a vegan for a variety of reasons. I don’t preach and often find it easier to bring my own food rather than pick at my hosts for what goes into a meal. My boyfriend was invited to a family summer gathering. It was very isolated and rural. I explained I was bringing my own food (his father and brother made special vegan jokes to me before). What happened was the kids raided my food (it was in my pack) when the pantry snacks got locked up. I’d brought enough food for me for five days; they went through everything in five hours! I got upset, and it was just a big joke to everyone. Then it seemed to become a game. If I set aside some peanut butter and celery, someone would eat it. Same for the oranges I put aside for breakfast (I got offered cereal and milk instead). I tried to get my boyfriend to drive me to a grocery store, and he told me it would take more than two hours one way and to lighten up. By the time I left, I wanted to cry. My boyfriend and I have been fighting about it. He tells me I was overreacting and it wasn’t like I’d starve out there. Is he right? We’ve been together for nine months and talking about moving in together. I am having doubts.
—Vegan Vacation
Dear Vegan,
If you were still there while you wrote this, I was going to ask if you needed someone to come rescue you and put out a call to our readers. These people tried to starve you to death! What would make this a tricky question would be if your boyfriend’s relatives were monsters and he was a nice guy who was just too timid to stand up to them. Instead, his relatives are monsters and so is he. I’m a little saddened and concerned that that isn’t clear to you, and that he has you wondering whether you’re overreacting. I can sit here and tell you that you’re absolutely not, but I think you need to hear it from others, too. Do you know five people of any age who are in happy relationships, or even single people who you think of as having good self-confidence? I want you to reach out to each of them and get their perspective.
They are all going to tell you that you are 100 percent right and your boyfriend is 100 percent wrong and that you deserve better. They might add that he’ll only treat you worse and worse as time goes on. I bet someone will throw in that his entire family is going to find a new thing to gang up on you about every season. I hope someone also mentions that nine months is nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Please work on understanding that you deserve to be treated with respect. And please never move in with someone who can’t even be trusted to stand up for you in a fight over peanut butter and celery.
Give Prudie a Hand in “We’re Prudence”
Sometimes even Prudence needs a little help. This week’s tricky situation is below. Submit your comments about how to approach the situation here to Jenée, and then look back for the final answer here on Friday.
Dear Prudence,
I was in my late-twenties when I got together with my girlfriend. We met on trips to the pub after work (we worked at the same place, but not together), and I just found myself magnetically drawn to her all the time. When I told our colleagues we were dating, I heard all sorts of things about how wonderful she was, how much they all loved her … basically, she was the most brilliant person in every room, and she was choosing me. Nothing had ever made me feel so loved and so confident.
Two years on and I am finding a flip-side to this. Friends of mine that she’s got to know now text her more than they text me. People at parties ask me where she is and walk away if I say she’s not coming. My young nieces and nephews will wrap her in hugs and will hardly acknowledge me. One friend has been with her boyfriend for 10 years and he never wanted to hang out with me—now whenever we meet up, she passes on the message that he is coming and can I bring my girlfriend. The confidence that I first got from being the one chosen by “the sun” of every room she’s in now just makes me feel like I’m the guest star in my own relationship (actual words someone used to describe me). I obviously love that she fits in with my friends and family so well. How do I stop myself feeling I’m being squeezed out of my own relationships?
—Guest Star
Dear Prudence,
For years, I was adamantly childfree. I constantly heard how my mom was pushed out of her job after my older sister was born, and after becoming one of the few people from my high school to go to college, I heard stories from my friends who became SAHMs super young that convinced me that having kids would push me out of a job and deprive me of an identity. If my parents or relatives tried to pester me about kids, I would firmly say no.
Then four years ago, I realized I was bisexual, and I started dating my now-fiancée soon after. She knew my feelings about children from the beginning of our relationship, and had always told me that the decision was ultimately my call—she loved her siblings’ kids, and had wanted to be a mom, but it wasn’t an absolute dealbreaker. But when we started thinking about marriage, I realized that I … want to be a mom with her. I talked a lot about it in therapy, and saw how my perception of having kids was affected by my upbringing. I had believed that having kids would automatically mean that I would be forced out of my own life and lose my identity, like I heard my mom and childhood friends complain so bitterly about.
When I discussed it with my fiancée, we decided that we do want to have a child, probably through IVF. We also talked through who would carry the baby and made sure to consider how we would divide up household labor with a baby, especially because that was where so much of my hesitancy came from. And a year later, as our wedding approaches, I still feel really good about this plan. My issue? How to explain this to my family without coming off as rude, or confirming their biases about childfree people and making life more difficult for my cousins and siblings who have very valid reasons for not having children.
I know that the second I say that we plan on having a child, or when we actually get pregnant, my older relatives and my parents will constantly keep telling me how they always knew I couldn’t resist it, when that’s not what happened at all! I can’t just say “Mom, you telling me that my sister and I ruined your life messed up my perception of having children, but I finally worked through it!” and expect nothing to happen, but I fear that I’ll end up blurting it out due to sheer frustration. How can I handle this conversation maturely while not making things worse for those who actually don’t want kids? Is there a script out there for this?
—Irritated by the Inevitable
Dear Irritated,
Think of this as practice for after you have a child, when you’ll inevitably receive an onslaught of weird, unhelpful, judgmental, downright wrong commentary and feedback from loved ones: Just let your relatives say what they’re going to say. Imagine the words coming out of their mouth, floating up into the air, and then quickly evaporating without ever getting into your head. With minimal enthusiasm, say “Thanks for sharing.” “Who knows,” “You may have a point,” or just change the subject. Or if you wanted to get a little dig in, you could cheerfully say, “You were right all along! I probably would have changed my mind sooner if I’d known I could have a child without losing my identity. I wish someone would have told me or shown me. But all’s well that ends well, right?” Either way, you can’t be responsible for overthrowing society’s procreation expectations alone, and anyway, people are allowed to change their minds! Focus yours on building the family you want, and try to ignore the “told you so” noise.
Get Even More Advice From the Dear Prudence Podcast
Dear Prudence,
I’m somehow 30 but having a problem I haven’t had since 17: having a crush on a straight friend. Last year, a grad school friend “Tara” moved back to my city, and we developed one of those ultra-close, more than slightly homoerotic friendships that I had in high school. I realized pretty quickly that I was becoming romantically attached, but I can’t figure out how to take a step back to kill the crush without killing the friendship. Tara may or may not be actually straight (it’s very hard to tell), but either way she’s publicly interested in men, and this is clearly not going anywhere healthy for me. My teen-self would cling to this until it imploded, but I know I can do better as an adult. How, though?
—Trying to Get Untangled
Dear Untangled,
Great news that Tara isn’t actually in a relationship right now. In whatever way is easiest for you—in a text message, while on a walk so you don’t have to look her in the eye, right before you leave town for a while so you can have some space if it doesn’t go well—you have to talk to her. I know, it’s terrifying! But the advice I always give to straight men is that it’s weird and a little creepy to be friends with someone who you actually want more from, so I feel it’s only fair to apply that rule here. I’m also hopeful about how it could turn out! Best case scenario: She returns your feelings, and you two live happily ever after. Second-best case scenario: She’s understanding and thanks you for telling her, and sharing your secret takes some of the steam out of your crush and it eventually fades. Worst case scenario: The friendship ends and you survive, knowing that it isn’t sustainable to have a fake platonic relationship with someone when you aren’t actually satisfied by it.
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