The other day, someone at my office asked me, “how is your roommate?” She had heard that my partner had brain surgery and wanted to know how he was doing. Internally, I sighed. I knew she was only trying to be nice. But he is not my “roommate.” That implies such a casual relationship.
I answered her question, but then followed with, “and he is not my roommate. He is the equivalent of a spouse. I call him my partner.” She did not know how to respond, but said, “well, I’m glad he’s okay.”
I don’t know why that particular phrase made me angry, but it does. After 18+ years, he is much more than just a roommate.
Okay, rant over. I love my partner, my spouse, my hunk, my best half.
Life is short: be calm but be clear.