I am encountering a bit of a minor personal dilemma, nicely encapsulated by the question in the title. I am fairly sure that I know the answer already - it’s probably not my business - but I figured I’d throw it out into cyberspace and see if anyone had a perspective I hadn’t considered.
My dilemma concerns a very good friend who recently (two days ago) became engaged. Her name is Jamie, and I have known her for well over a decade. A bit of context about our relationship would probably be useful here, so: we met as high school freshmen. Both of us were enrolled in a magnet program for irredeemable nerds, and as a result we had literally all the same classes (the 25 people in the program had separate classes from the rest of the building; as you can imagine, we were tremendously cool and popular). We were always seated alphabetically, and thanks to a quirk of lettering Jamie wound up sitting directly to my left in every class for four years. Over time, we came to discover that we had similar perspectives on life, similar hobbies, and similar senses of humor. We became good friends. Then we dated, through our junior and senior years. We broke up shortly thereafter because we gradually came to realize that although we liked and respected one another, neither of us was actually physically attracted to the other. Seemed like a good reason to stop dating, so we did.
We wound up attending the same college - this was actually a complete coincidence - and remained friends throughout. Over time, we became something like best friends. We talked one another through relationship and educational crises, met for lunch twice a week, etcetera, etcetera. In my junior year of college, I met the woman who would become my wife; Jamie became very good friends with her, too. A few years later, she would stand as the maid of honor at my wedding. My wife and I consider her to be as much a part of our family as anyone we know.
Throughout our relationship, Jamie and I have always particularly valued extremely frank honesty. If she looks bad in a pair of pants, she counts on me to tell her even if others won’t. If something I write doesn’t work, I count on her to tell me that bluntly. We respect one another’s ideas and opinions enough that this honesty has helped both of us make large and small decisions throughout the last fifteen years or so.
Jamie has always been a little bit odd. Most people find her brash and off-putting, because she has very little filter between brain and mouth. On a personal level, she’s usually quite conservative; she rarely does anything without making three hundred lists and overthinking to the point of exhaustion. Every once in a while, though, she does something spectacularly impulsive - packing up her entire life and moving to Hungary to teach English, for example - and those things don’t usually end well.
Relationship-wise, she has struggled. She has often been drawn to men who are flawed or unattainable - the closeted gay guy, the married guy, the career guy with no time for a real relationship, the faithless player. She’ll turn 30 in May, and her marriage clock is ticking; she’s said as much to me.
Now to the problem: in November of last year (2006), Jamie went on a date with a man she met on the Internet. They got along well. He seems like a very nice, decent, honest guy; I like him a lot, based on the little I’ve seen so far. He’s a few years older than she, but not many. However, he was very recently divorced from a woman with significant mental health issues, with whom he has three daughters; he is now their custodial parent.
Jamie saw this man a few times between Thanksgiving and Christmas, with their relationship ramping up a bit in intensity early this year. Then, a few days ago, Jamie called me to tell me that she had gotten a manicure for the first time in her life. The reason? Well, she wanted her hands to look good when she showed them off. What?, I asked, because I’m slow like that. Well, I’m getting engaged tomorrow night, she tells me.
This is surprising. She has known this man - nice as he is - for only about four months. They do not see one another anything like daily. He is only very recently removed from what must have been an emotionally exhausting relationship and has three children to whom she will now become a mother (Jamie has always militantly maintained that she had no interest in being a parent, and seems to believe that she can marry this man without having to take any sort of parental role in the lives of his children). Jamie’s planning to quit her job in June to live with him full-time.
It looks to me very much like she is sprinting toward a finish line, and her protestations of true love forever seem a bit implausible. My wife agrees with me that this all seems out of character for her, and a little strange and unsettling.
So the question is, is this any of our business? Should we say anything about our misgivings, or is her life her life and none of our concern? I’m leaning towards saying nothing and being supportive, because I don’t particularly want to see the end of a 15-year friendship, but am troubled and figured I’d throw this out there.
Thoughts?