Introduction

My husband and I were sharing a milk shake at our favorite veggie burger place in San Francisco when it happened. Right at the table next to us, a woman (let’s call her Jane) and her boyfriend were talking about getting married. She brought up getting engaged; he started lacing up his running shoes.

Then I heard Jane pop her own question: “So when do you think we’re going to get engaged?” Time stood still. These words were so powerful, and yet so intimate. Hearing them caught my undivided and unwanted attention. I was sucked into their life’s saga.

I could tell this wasn’t a first for this discussion topic. No, no . . . this was a tango that these two had danced before. But they were clearly still out of sync. Those of us who have been on that empty stage ourselves recognize the awkward dance. The body language, facial expressions, and nervous voices. They’re dead giveaways that create an intriguing mix of bored been-there-done-that and hopeful maybe-this-time-will-be-different.

Jane sat with a straight back, elbows on the table in a professional stiffness, ready to charge, yet exhausted from twirling and twirling around this topic. Her partner was leaning as far back from the table as his body would allow him without falling out of his seat. This was the last place he wanted to be. It was obvious that they knew the steps, but the tempos were off. She was racing forward. He liked the slower beat.

While reaching for the fries, Jane continued with the familiar litany: “All of our friends are getting engaged. We’ve been together the longest, and each time after we talk about this, I still don’t get what you’re thinking.”

With hesitation and careful thought, her partner muttered, “Do we have to talk about this again? Why do you always have to bring this up?”

I was compelled to stay tuned to this drama–comedy–horror show. It was better than Sex and the City. Actually, this could have been on Sex and the City! I watched their perplexed faces and tried to read their minds. Her thoughts: “Why am I still in this relationship?” His thoughts: “Why does she bring this up every day?”

He looked pathetically back at her and finally said, “I want to get married, and I want to marry you. I just don’t feel ready yet. I want to feel ready.”

She wanted to know when he was going to be ready. How would he know? Would he get a special twinkle in his eyes? Would his turkey popper pop? Would the sky open with angels singing and a beam of sunlight cascading at his feet? Even I, an innocent bystander, wanted to know what “ready” feels like.

I never got to hear the end of their saga. Before I knew it, our check had arrived and we had twenty minutes to spare before our movie time. Not hearing the story’s finale felt like someone had ripped the best mystery novel ever out of my hands, right before I found out the who-done-it (or even the did-he-ever-do-it!).

 

Dancing the Limbo

I’ve logged in many hours consoling frustrated women (myself included) who have been in Jane’s shoes, a pair of skyscraper five-inch heels that leave us teetering on the edge of confusion and frustration.

A woman who wants to get engaged to a boyfriend who isn’t ready creates the perfect recipe for conflict and intense emotions. And where did I start to notice this conflict the most? Short of being advertised on the back of a bus, it was everywhere. Not only did TV and movies bring us heartwarming stories of perfection (diamond commercials, love stories ending in an “I do,” and all that jazz), they also bombarded us with not-so-perfect times. The times when engagement was a problem, not a promise. It was usually in the form of a comedy’s hearty laugh at the woman’s expense or a drama that ended with a pile of Kleenex on your living room floor.

The phenomenon of the missing ring was even happening when I turned off the TV—like during weekend gossip fests with friends over coffee. I’d barely have blown the foam off my cappuccino when it would begin. With the good (“Did you hear so-and-so got engaged?”) came the bad (“Did you hear so-and-so still isn’t engaged?”). I thought to myself, “Maybe I’m onto something. Does every couple go through this transition?”

I sparked conversations with others about their experiences, and found this waiting time . . . this frustration . . . this argh factor . . . was a relationship passage in itself. It wasn’t a fear of general relationship commitment (the generic commitment phobia) because the couples it plagues have the commitment thing down pat—their relationships have seen several pages of the calendar flipped. No, this was different. I decided to give it a name. Say hello to “pre-engagement limbo.”

When it’s you who’s going through this relationship standstill, you can’t help but feel like you’re the only one. All you can think of is how the engagement party Evites are filling up your inbox. You don’t exactly want to announce to the girls over brunch that your long-term boyfriend doesn’t want to be your long-term husband. Imagine the looks of pity! And the secret thoughts of “What’s wrong with her?” It would only make you feel more vulnerable. So it’s sealed lips and tell-nothing smiles. The truth is, the woman with the latte and scone at the next table might be going through the same thing. The hush-hush leads to another missed opportunity for chick bonding.

Women frustrated with the pace of their relationship say they also feel embarrassed and rejected by their partner’s hesitancy. Surprisingly, hesitancy doesn’t necessarily mean rejection. In most cases, the reason a man might dodge the M-word has little to do with his girlfriend and instead has a lot to do with his own personal struggle and individual pace. Discomfort with change, ideals of perfection, fear of the unknown, and even wondering if Cindy Crawford is looking for him right now can all keep a guy frozen at the knee.

My Own Case of Limbo

I was in a relationship with a man who initially had trouble sorting out his own feelings about getting engaged. I learned a lot from this man. He’s now my husband.

While we were dating, I was talking with a therapist once a week for a couple of months. I needed to figure it all out. Was I in a dead-end relationship? Should I end it and move on or stick it out for the light at the end of the tunnel (maybe the sparkle of a diamond)? Each week I found myself asking her for a translation of my boyfriend’s process, as if she could read the mind of someone she had never met. I wanted a crystal ball, a prediction about how everything would turn out. Were we going to end up together? Was he just going through “stuff”? Was it a simple case of his cold feet or something more?

I vented my frustration to a few of my closest friends, and initially swore them to secrecy—an adult...