#7: "My Boyfriend Has Changed. Do I Need To Change Too?"
Change is expected. What you describe is not (necessarily).
Dear Hayes,
I’ll jump right into my super bizarre dilemma: My boyfriend has picked up a new hobby of racing motorcycles. We met six years ago when we were 20 and 21-years-old. He was the kind of person that was exactly who my parents always wanted for me: intelligent, caring, responsible, courteous, practical, and most importantly, not an artist like the other boys I brought home. He’s still all of those things and more.
For the first three years of our post-college relationship, we did long distance because our jobs required a lot of travel. In 2021, we both made the decision to take new jobs back in his hometown. We finally live in the same city again.
There’s naturally been an adjustment period. Over our three years of long distance, we became much more independent than either of us realized. I call our first year in his hometown the “growing back together” year. It was heartbreaking at times. We had to re-establish expectations and boundaries and re-learn how to communicate with each other. We never faltered or discussed any doubts in our relationship. He is (and has always been) constant and confident in us.
His move back home was never just for me — his whole family is here too! His dad is his role model. He’s a badass who fixes up old antique Harley motorcycles for fun and races them in sponsored events (on beaches, NASCAR speedways, dirt tracks, random backroads, literally wherever he can). He wins...a lot. He embodies cool and I see why my boyfriend looks up to him, hell I do too.
Here’s where things get interesting: This past Christmas, his dad bought him his own motorcycle to race alongside him. And he dove in headfirst. Immediately I was nervous and hesitant. MY BOYFRIEND IS NOW A MOTORCYCLE RACER?! He’s RACING motorcycles?!
Like most things that scare me, I started to learn everything about this new hobby from a safety perspective. If he’s doing this, how can I make sure he’s as safe as possible and put my mind at ease? But the more I learned, the worst my anxiety became.
His first race on a NASCAR track was at the beginning of March, and despite my worry, I went to support him. He made it to the finals (of course, ugh). During his last race of the day, someone crashed and was in a coma for a month. That person is lucky to be alive.
The part I can’t get over is that the man that crashed was riding a motorcycle that was the same color as my boyfriend’s and for a split second, I thought it was him. I can’t even describe that feeling, Hayes. I had never been more certain than I was in that moment that this is my husband, the father to my hypothetical children we haven’t decided we’re even having yet. My future is this other person, and I have completely lost any control over their well-being. I know that’s only an illusion anyway, but racing motorcycles seems like it could be an avoidable risk.
How am I supposed to come to terms with this new hobby of his? How do I communicate my concerns without shutting him down? I never want him to do this and I don’t think I can ever attend one of these events again. I don’t want my disapproval to drive a wedge between me and him or his family. This isn’t a hobby I ever expected him to pick up, seemingly out of the blue, after 6 years of being together. Am I being dramatic? Should I be trying to look at things differently?
Sincerely,
Not a Biker Bake
Hello Not a Biker Babe,
Did you notice how you used the past tense to describe the things your boyfriend was when he first raced into your life? Your word choice might mean nothing. I always get my tenses wrong when I write. The first draft of my novel? All over the place, and not in a way that critics would call “experimental.”
Maybe you flip flopped the tenses the way I do. By accident, means nothing.
Or maybe it was a clue.
We loved him because he was responsible, was courteous, because he was not an artist.
And now?
Well. We can argue that his new hobby, and the way he’s gone about developing his new hobby, is the opposite of those initially magnetic traits.
What could an artist have in common with a competitive motorcycle racer? I imagine that both are often overcome with urgency, of the desire to get lost in some sort of flow. Both can be self-centered. They’ll do things for the art, without always weighing the repercussions — or they weigh the repercussions, but still choose the work. The race.
That’s part of why I could never date an artist. I’m one myself.
Your boyfriend is on an artist’s journey, it seems. It could be a phase. Maybe he feels aimless and is reaching for the compass of daddy’s approval. Or this could be who he’s always been, who you started to see when you finally ended your long-distance relationship and started an in-close proximity once. Maybe this is part of the adjustment you were talking about.
You allude to the fact that you are a worrier by nature but allow me to validate you. This is not your typical worry-for-nothing situation. Motor racing is an objectively dangerous sport. His medium could kill him, which, if you think he could be the future father of your children or partner of your life, would not be ideal.
Then again, anything could kill him, anything could kill any of us. The world doesn’t care about the plans we’ve made for ourselves and our loved ones. And, but, and.
Like everyone, I’m scared that the people I need will die. Sometimes I see the unraveling in detail: How I would react to getting the phone call, what if I saw it happen, what if someone ran that red light while we had green, to what degree would my life turn into nothing. My imagination has gotten worse with age. This past weekend Brob went for a long run, he left a little later than usual. Dusk came and he wasn’t home and in my moment of irrational panic I forgot that I could call him or track his location. Instead I started to cry. I tried box breathing and focused on my puzzle. A few minutes later he came panting through the back door, smiling and glistening with sweat. Very much alive.
I can only imagine how horrified I’d be if, while spiraling about his safety, I saw another runner get in an accident outside my window. That’s what it sounds like you experienced at his latest race, when the other rider got in that accident. I’m so sorry. I am not an expert on trauma, but I wonder if that “counts” as a traumatizing experience. You know what, screw the experts — it counts to me.
I’ve been curious about why you told me about your long-distance beginnings. Why does it matter to this story? I think it’s because, as you said, it made you “more independent than we realized.” And in some ways, though you didn’t say this explicitly, you might have…grown apart. Are you worried that you’ve grown too far?
You ask if you need to “come to terms” with his new hobby, and I think yes, you need to come to terms with the hobby if you want to be in the relationship and if he wants to continue racing — but you don’t need to come to HIS terms. You need to come to terms with the rules you set together, mutually, as a couple. I don’t believe you’ve done that.
Brob and I have our own set of terms, though ours are focused on his skiing. His idea of a good time on the mountain is frightening to me. It seems dangerous, actually, but that’s coming from my perspective as a person who does not have expert-level command over skis. He skis through trees, with moguls, off trail. So we have terms: He will not do anything “risky” alone or under the influence, he’ll send me emojis throughout the day to let me know he’s good. There are also things he will not do, like go back country skiing because of the risk of avalanches. The fact that he has limits makes me feel more confident in his choices.
When it comes to racing, what would your boyfriend not do? What feels too risky for him? If you haven’t talked about it yet, I wonder if hearing him outline his own limits would make you feel more secure.
Because of Brian’s passion for skiing and adventure, we watch a lot of extreme sport documentaries. What always strikes me is when I hear the non-athlete spouses talk about their partner’s choices. One wife of a skier said: “How could I ask him not to do the thing that makes him feel most alive?” I can think of millions way to ask him not to, but I understand and admire her courage.
She knew what she was getting into. She trusts that her partner will make calculated risks, not reckless ones. But they also know, and are at peace with, it seems, the reality that their partner could die. But they’d die doing the thing that brought them the most life, and maybe that could be a poetic thing on its own.
I’m surprised he picked up this hobby without consulting you first. From an outside perspective, that is a decision that should have been made in the family —and when I say family, I mean in your family: the two of you. Do you feel like family? Do you generally make decisions as a unit, outside of this one? If my partner of six years told me that his next hobby was going to be one that could end his life in an instant, if he told me instead of discussed it with me, I would feel angry and confused and betrayed.
Perhaps he handled it this way because he’s blinded by his father’s pride, which I suppose is psychologically understandable but would still concern me if I was this grown man’s adult partner. Or maybe since racing is so (albeit recently) normalized in the family he was born into, he didn’t think that it was a big deal.
Why haven’t you brought up your feelings with him yet? I know you both care about maintaining independence. Are you scared that saying something would feel like a betrayal of a boundary you set? Your boundaries are allowed to change, my love. Your rules for independence can shift as soon as independence begins to feel like a violation.
I think it would be helpful for you to allow yourself to imagine the fact that the two of you might not be compatible anymore. MIGHT! In a previous letter, someone wrote to me saying that she couldn’t imagine herself with someone more compatible, but then went on to describe how he was making serious life decisions without consulting her. What is compatibility if not being on the same page about whether you want to intentionally introduce danger to your life? Those spouses that I described to you, the ones of extreme sport athletes? You don’t need to accept their life just because of love. You can, but you don’t need to.
As for how to talk to him about this…I would do it the same way you’ve spoken to me here. Your words were honest and reasonable. Tell him you want to be supportive of his hobbies but struggle with the ludicrous danger of it all, that you want to understand what risks he’s willing to take and what he’s not.
Then, if this rings true for you, I’d add something like this:
“Really, love, what hurts me most is that I feel like I had no voice in this decision. We both value our independence and have the right to have distinct and separate hobbies, but the hobby you’ve chosen is one that could end your life and forever alter mine. Why didn’t we talk about this together? Why didn’t you ask me how I felt about that? Your choices don’t just impact you. They impact me too. I need to be included in the decisions that impact my life. It’s never too late to start fresh, so what do you think: Can we start this conversation about your new hobby from scratch — as a team, not as individuals? I’m ready do that now.”
Is he ready to do it with you? To treat you like his partner? That’s what I believe you deserve. And if he can’t, then you walk away knowing you are building the life you want. You’ll find another Big Love. Someone who is practical and intelligent and courteous. And most definitely not an artist.
Xo,
Hayes