In 2023, I thought a lot about

caregiving and my love life

Published on

December 3, 2023

This year, I jumped back into the dating pool and sighed, swiped and rolled my eyes at vest-clad men presenting giant fish; cigar-sucking men on yachts; disastrously-tattooed, shirtless men and other horrors. It’s an essay in itself but it’s not the dating essay I’m sharing today. You see, each time I’ve gone back on the apps, my little brother takes front and centre stage in my mind.

I grant you that it might be odd to hear that I think about a sibling when I want to find a life partner. Bear with me for a moment.

You see, my younger brother has autism. Now, let me quickly answer all the questions I’ve had over the years about him: Yes, he’s formally diagnosed. No, he’s not like Rain Man. No, he cannot talk. Yes, we’ve tried therapy and medication. No, it can’t be cured.

And yes, he needs 24/7 care.

That’s it right there: round-the-clock care, forever. And I am the only sibling. You do the math.

I’ve also had the comments that he is not my child and therefore not my responsibility so why – when the time comes – don’t I plan to put him in a formal facility where he can be cared for by professionals?

“My brother has autism. Yes, he’s formally diagnosed. No, he’s not like Rain Man. No, he cannot talk. Yes, we’ve tried therapy and medication. No, it can’t be cured.And yes, he needs 24/7 care.That’s it right there: round-the-clock care, forever.”

Why? Well, because in my culture, people who need care stay with their families. Putting them in a facility is often viewed as abandonment by my parents' generation. It’s my mother’s ultimate nightmare that I will dump her son somewhere and go live my life.

But, I am committed to taking over caregiving duties at some point – with help, of course. I am not delusional enough to think I can do it alone, I’m not a martyr.

What does this have to do with finding a life partner? Well, while I’ve been using dating apps intermittently over 4 years, being direct and honest about what I want has become my unbreakable rule. For the record: I want a healthy and committed, long-term relationship, and yes, eventually I want to get married. The essence of the conversation I have early on with any prospective partner is:

“Hey.

I just met you, and this is crazy,

but my bro's autistic,

and he’ll need me daily.”

“In my culture, people who need care stay with their families. Putting them in a facility is often viewed as abandonment by my parents’ generation. I am committed to taking over caregiving duties at some point – with help, of course. I am not delusional enough to think I can do it alone, I’m not a martyr.”

Further into a relationship, I’ve been burnt in the past. A boyfriend once ended things because his parents didn’t want him to be with me because of my brother. Ever since, the first things my mother has asked when I’ve dated someone new are, “Does he know about your brother? Do his parents know? Are they fine with it?” It breaks my heart that she feels she now needs to ask.

Still, it is a hard thing to bring up with someone I don’t really know, someone who doesn't know my brother and, (depending on whether they accept my relationship ‘condition’) someone who would be months away from meeting him anyway. But I don’t want to waste anyone’s time, so I just put my cards on the table.

This year, I met someone. We got along like a house on fire so I found myself in a familiar position. How might I tell him early on – without sounding like I'm committing us to the altar – that at some point in my life my brother will live with me? And my cats. And the person I choose to marry.

It was hanging in my mind when we hung out.

Shall I say something in this lively pub as we knock back G&Ts while you admire my combat boots, and I appreciate your taste in glasses? Do I mention it over our second date while we slurp udon noodles in an anime-inspired restaurant? Is it the perfect time when we’re laughing and eating juicy, smashed burgers and we’re the only people in the joint so we’re acting as if we own it? Or do I blurt it out after our first kiss, tender and slow?

A few days after we started chatting I chose to slip it into conversation. I didn’t dwell on it. Just put it out there like an inconsequential thing that doesn’t weigh heavily on my mind. His reaction was gentle. Anticlimactic in fact. I wondered if the momentum of his messaging would dwindle and he’d gradually withdraw. But he didn’t. Time passed and he said he’d like it if we could be exclusive. I wanted that too but I realised I’d resigned myself to never finding the healthy and committed, long-term relationship I wanted – in part because of this non-negotiable condition I put on him. And on those before him.

So I asked again if he understood.

“Yes.”

That was it. There was no discussion, just acceptance. It’s a promising sign because I’ve learnt that frankly, my brother is a great litmus test for kind people.