I wish I knew what it would actually like to be a parent before I decided to get pregnant. I miss my old life. I miss ju

Calling him anything with the word spouse in it, though? Referring to him that way with co-workers? Kee-keeing about how he’s essentially the replacement of an actual husband? Pass.

My editor on this story says that it’s pretty much a mental health strategy these days to have someone functioning as an office spouse. You need someone outside of home to vent to, to support, and get support. I agree.

Would he be my office husband if we worked in an in-person office? Hell no. But you know what he would be? My friend. I’d totally have lunch with him in real life. Maybe a pre-work coffee or even an after-work drink. The way I do with friends.

Think about this: What if the person you currently call your work spouse decides they need another work spouse. So now, they bring morning coffee to you and their second work spouse. And then they add another. Imagine your work spouse has five other work spouses. Would you be okay with that? No, you wouldn’t, because you want your work spouse to mirror an actual marriage. And for most of us, married in real life or not, that means it’s just the two of us.

Most people laugh off the term. “Oh, there’s my work spouse, late again. I should’ve made you breakfast this morning. Hardy-har-har.” But every time you say it, you cement the relationship, whether you want to believe so or not.

I’m a freelancer and I work at several publications. I only have a work spouse at one. That’s sort of a cheat — especially in 2020, because we both work from home and don’t see each other in an actual office. Also, an office spouse is generally a relationship that’s understood by the rest of the office. This is a private office marriage.

Yep. We ended up dating, got married: babies, houses, dogs, the whole bit. We’re not together anymore. And now, we’re back to being the platonic friends we started out as back in the day.

My husband and I have one child. A two-year-old girl, and while I can honestly say that I love her, I really hate being a mom. I will admit this is better than when she was brand new, but I still hate it. I hate the immense responsibility; I hate that all she wants is me a lot of the time. I do my best to be a good mom. We spend a lot of time together since I am a mostly stay at home mom, not by choice, and it may be changing soon, hopefully. We play, I had to her, we spend a lot of time outside. I try and teach her stuff and really be present. But I hate it. I look forward to her going for her naps, I can’t wait until she goes to bed at night so that I can have time away from her.

Yep. We ended up dating, got married: babies, houses, dogs, the whole bit. We’re not together anymore. And now, we’re back to being the platonic friends we started out as back in the day.

D gave me advice about guys. (I was going through a phase of dating an assortment of fuckboys.) He told me I needed to be more discerning. I gave him advice about women. I thought he was a little too serious and a tad bit judgemental. D and I had lunch together more often than not. If anyone in the office was looking for him, they came to me.

We have things in common, from our generation to our career trajectory to our mutual friends. And he understands what it means if I’m struggling to meet a deadline and can give me the tools I need to make it to the finish line.

But still, I hit him up with tech stuff I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t understand. I let my hair down a bit when we chat. I ask him about stuff that’s not strictly work-related and sometimes he makes me spit take my coffee out with his views on, well, literally anything.

I’m 47 years old. I’ve been in the workforce in some capacity for 30 years. I have seen a lot of work spouse relationships, including my own. I don’t know of many that didn’t end in — ahem.

Here’s what I believe: The idea of labeling someone a work spouse — as opposed to just a co-worker or a friend — elevates them to a higher level of intimacy. And that’s dangerous. There’s an emotional connection when you call someone your work spouse. It could (and should!) be strictly platonic. But we’re all grown-ups here; we know how humans operate. We give out titles for a reason. Wife. Husband. Friend. Best Friend. Godmother. Maid of Honor. Best Man. Titles are meant to elevate your relationship, to let others know where you stand with this person. It makes this person special.

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s failed to find a link between academic and career success. The only skill the straight-A student masters is rogue memorization. Examples of geniuses with poor grades abound. Steve Jobs had a 2.65 highschool GPA. Albert Einstein graduated 4th in his class out of five physicists. Beethoven never learned to multiply or divide. Too often, a letter grade fails to codify creative intelligence.