Love in the Recessionary times

Timing-wise, it wasn’t the most promising beginning.

He was headed to the opposite coast. But the thousands of miles of separation was the least of our potential problems.

We started dating in the midst of one of the most stressful periods in both of our lives. I had just been laid off from a job I loved, and my industry seemed to be imploding. He would be gone for an unspecified period of time to reorganize his company and — he hoped — keep it from going under.

We were worried about money and questioning our careers. One of us had been stripped of title and paycheck, and was adjusting to a new identity. The other was wondering whether the enterprise he had built from scratch could survive the year.

I’m pretty certain that I would still be carrying on my relationship if I hadn’t lost my job. But it probably would have progressed more slowly.

I know people whose budding romances have sunk in similar circumstances. One friend who lost her job at a big law firm has spent months on the hunt, and her anxiety has spilled into her love life. Earlier this year she started seeing a nice, cute, bright guy — who soon suggested they put the dating on hold until she was in a better place. He didn’t want her to be the one bright spot in her life.

It’s entirely possible that they would have hit a roadblock in better times. The recession may have throw a lot of things out of whack, but romantic chemistry isn’t about the eonomy, stupid. I’m pretty certain that I would still be carrying on my relationship if I hadn’t lost my job. But it probably would have progressed more slowly. The downturn not only gave us more time and flexibility, it forced us to refocus our values and allowed us to see each other more clearly.

In the boom years, there was unrelenting competition for my time and attention. My days endurance races from breakfasts meetings to work to lunches to work to evenings full of dinners, parties, benefits and dates. My refrigerator was empty but for a stick of butter, a few bottles of Champagne and (usually) some chocolate. There was room for someone else, but not a lot of room.

So was learning more about each other. We couldn’t hide behind work or clothes or status symbols, or distract ourselves wth exciting events and activities. He got to see how I defined myself without a job, and whether I could handle not being able to buy new clothes or vacations. Early on, I made myself contemplate the possibility that he both might have to start over financially. And I realized that the recession had already shown him to be optimistic and resourceful, so that was okay with me.

I did have some worrisome moments. I panicked one evening when he said that if his company went under he would move in so I could support us both. “Please tell me you’re joking,” I begged.

Now that I am back at a full-time job, I suppose I could keep us afloat. But ironically, employment has put more stress on my relationship than unemployment did. I work long hours, am adjusting to new demands. It seems there’s a downside to the upturn.