MaryB and the City

Take a knee.

Themes. They’re everywhere. Consistently present. Each night as I go to sleep, the last 18 hours can easily and always be categorized into a specific genre; Mystery, Suspense, Sci Fi, Silent, Drama, Adventure, Romantic Comedy, Action.

However the last two weeks have been most notably tagged #Fantasy.

I’m an observer. People watching is a delicious past time. Particularly on the world wide web of social networking. Facebook is such a funny concept too — we ‘friend’ each other and passively keep tabs on daily happenings — collectively celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, job promotions, births, successful potty training, and weight loss/fitness accomplishments. But there is one epic, and I don’t use that word lightly, breaking news feed CNN-ticker worthy critical broadcast that by far takes the cake for responses: The Engagement.

Because I am privy to an updated inventory of every person, all 527 in my database, and their current state-of-the-union relationship status…I’m well aware how many of my immediate female peers are Single. There are were about eight of us left. And as of late, five of them crossed over who are now sporting shiny, expensive facets on their fingers.

Then, all of the tabloid-type TV shows started rattling off celebrities who had exchanged engagement experiences over the holidays, too. After losing count among my personal circle and famous folks, it seemed as though an unusually high amount of promises had taken place in a very short window. Was there in fact that many jewels going around, or was the bystander role from the sidelines causing me to be a bit melodramatic? Luckily one of my fave web sites posted article after article about the Fiancé/Fiancée announcements, assuring me I’m not making stuff up in the neurotic section of my head.

Christmas came and went. Then New Years came and went. And I couldn’t help but wonder what those women were feeling while going into 2011 with a monumental, life-changing commitment. Did they previously have “the talk” with their significant other? Had they looked at rings together? Was it a total surprise? How many minutes lapsed between ”Will you marry me?” and excitedly updating their relationship status? Did the road ahead feel scary, or like they’re headed to Disney World?

When Mr. Big and I reconnected about six months ago, I honestly didn’t know whether it was possible for me to ever completely trust him, wholeheartedly. I walked into a very vulnerable arena — putting myself out there again to give us one more shot — acknowledging that I could ultimately have to call it quits because there was simply too much water under the broken bridge. Moreover, I was extraordinarily skeptical…not knowing if it was even possible.

But it happened. I trust him.

Even saying those words outloud and expressing them in writing doesn’t seem real. For years and years during our former courtship, there was always an uneasiness that persisted inside of me. An unexplainable anxiety that fermented over time. And while there weren’t any tangible examples to claim my lack of total faith in his loyalty to me, still, the toxicity levels remained high.

Six months ago, I made a pact with myself: I will not walk down an aisle, greeted by Mr. Big at the end, if I cannot look in the mirror first and claim that I trust him. In the past, I literally couldn’t visualize a proposal out of his mouth, let alone exchanging vows. My mind wouldn’t allow me to enter a #Fantasy; it was a subconscious safety zone to not ‘go there.’

And now, I can finally see it. Not only do I feel a perpetual calmness radiate inside me, one I’ve never known before when it comes to feeling confidence in the person I’ve invested more energy into than any other aspect of my 31 years, yet also find it equally interesting that it’s no longer just about The Engagement. Sure the ring, the dress, flowers and flatware is bound to be fabulous.

But it’s about what comes after the first dance that really has me reveling.

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”

— Ernest Hemingway