I am my own person

When the Actor and I started dating 6 years ago it almost instantly became like I wasn’t my own person. My friends would always ask him if I could hang out with them, if I was busy, if I could go with them on a trip, but they never asked me directly. I would be standing right in front of them and they would ask him instead.

Like he owned me.

When I got my hair cut into a pixie last summer the hair dresser asked if she would get an angry husband in her salon, like my hair was not my own.

In the eleventh grade we were in the same class for television production. We were split up into different groups which alarmed everyone around us. I found myself practically screaming that we were not a packaged deal. We could work in different groups and be okay. It wasn’t even remotely a problem.

Friends will even tell me that they got the Actor’s permission to do stuff with me if I’m reluctant to hang out because I’m an introvert, like that will change my mind.

And on the opposite side, his friends are always messaging me about hanging out.

So, this is a public service announcement to everyone that knows us:

I am my own person. The Actor is his own person. We do not own each other. We are not in charge of each other. We do not manage each other’s schedules.

I may be indecisive but I can make my own decisions. So can he.

We are not a packaged deal. We do not have to be together all the time.

We got married because we love each other and social constructs and benefits. It does not mean we belong to each other. We did not vow that. It means that we got to combine bank accounts and finances and visit each other in the hospital if anything happens. It means we’ve promised to be in a committed relationship with each other for as long as we want. And weddings are just too damn fun to pass up.

It does not mean in any way, shape, or form that we own each other.


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