The other day, my boyfriend Petr and I were ordering Mediterranean food delivery on a rainy evening. I decided to “Build my own Bowl”. The first choice asked me what I wanted for my base – Mixed Greens, Arugula, or Tabbouleh Salad? As I started to make my selection, Petr looked over my shoulder at the phone screen and said, unprompted, “You don’t even like arugula.”

I quickly scanned through all my memories with Petr and my database of what I have revealed to him about myself, and I didn’t find a match. I had not told him about my complicated relationship with arugula* (see footnote).

“How did you know that?” I asked him

He said nonchalantly, “I just know.”

We left it at that, but I was unsettled. Later, as we were eating the bowls and watching Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol, in a pause between action scenes, I asked him again, “How did you know I don’t like arugula? I never told you.”

He said, “I know things about you that you haven’t told me.”

I was satisfied with his answer, but I couldn’t get our exchange out of my mind. It’s brought me to ask a Big Question – What does it mean to know someone, and how do you get to know someone?

I used to see people as a puzzle to figure out. I thought that the faster I could find out about them (especially the parts that they may not want people to know about) the better. I wanted to skip past the small talk and quickly conclude whether we could be friends of the heart, friends of convenience, or whatever other bucket of relationships I had in my mind- or if not one of those, then let’s just cut our losses and never talk to each other again. I would feel especially satisfied to see someone I knew in the wild, say out and about on the subway. I thought it was more meaningful to see that natural, sloppy version of themselves, less presented and manicured than if we were to meet at a coffee shop. I felt that I was seeing the real them.

I applied this way of thinking to getting to know myself as well. I always thought there was this “pure self” inside of me that I wanted to reach and understand. I believed that I would find this person eventually. I wanted to fast forward to that part – where I’d know myself and everything would be better because I could live in harmony with my true values.

Over time, I suppose my perspective on getting to know myself and other people has changed.

The first time I met any of Petr’s friends was early on in our relationship. We planned a three-day trip to Colorado to visit two of his friends – a couple, Jessica and Steven – and they welcomed us to stay in their home.

Seeing the three of them together and how comfortable they were with one another, it was evident that they had a rich history together. I gathered that they must have shared countless double-dates in the past, when Petr was dating someone else. Throughout the trip, I felt like an observer, learning bits and pieces of Petr’s life chapters that I wasn’t a part of. Jessica had bought brie cheese for Petr, remembering that he loves melted cheese. She baked the brie for him in the oven and he squirmed with delight as he ate it. At that point, I knew he liked melted cheese, but not that he really really loved it.

I was immensely curious about Petr’s past. What was Petr like back then? What was his ex like? How did those experiences shape the person he is now? But there was a part of me that held back. I felt like there was an unspoken understanding that this trip wasn’t about me interrogating Jessica and Steven about the details of his former life and prior relationships, nor should it have been. Indulging that curiosity would only be in hopes of quelling my insecurities about our future relationship. I think part of me knew there in Colorado that getting to know someone isn’t just about knowing all the facts, but also about respecting the mysteries and time it takes for things to unfold.

On that trip, I did learn more about Petr in a different way, just as I learned more about Jessica and Steven. I learned how much they cherish their relationships with one another. That’s not something they could just tell me, well they could- but it’s not something I could truly believe until after I saw their tenderness firsthand in Colorado. I’m sure they all learned a lot about me that trip as well, much more beyond the words and facts that came out of my mouth.

Over time, I would come to learn the answers to some of those questions I had, as well as much more than that. Petr and I now live together and we have made many new memories together. He knows things about me that no one knows because they wouldn’t care, like the color of my toothbrush, but also the reflections and dreams of that unfiltered, private me that is normally too scared of judgement to share.

Still, there is a lot of me that he doesn’t know. There are people out there that hold parts of me that Petr will simply never know. Former romantic partners, old friends and coworkers – they hold fragments of me, or at least how I was at a certain point in time, in memories that even I may not remember.

There are more modern ways to learn about people too. You can Google them, scroll through their entire Instagram history, and read their LinkedIn profile. Surely, these things do add to that complete picture of them too, but in a different way. LinkedIn broadcasts the trivia of where you’ve worked and where you went to school. It also reveals interesting aspects about how you want to portray yourself professionally.

A few years ago I took a beginner improv comedy class at Magnet Theatre. I decided one evening to look up all of my classmates on LinkedIn. I was wondering what the heck these people in my class do for a living. I found that one of my classmates, Jesse, went to the same college as me.

The next time I saw him in class, I told him that I had LinkedIn stalked him and saw that we went to the same college. I was a little worried he would think it was weird, but his face lit up when I mentioned the school. We ended up having a conversation about how much we prefer real life than college life. We found out we had several other things in common too — we both worked in tech, we were both from Los Angeles, and we both loved traveling. It felt like we were in similar life stages of being single in NYC and we always had so much to discuss.

It seems there are different layers in getting to know someone. The basic facts, like where they grew up and how many siblings they have, form the foundation. Over time, you understand their values and all that juicier stuff. And then there’s the shared moments that only exist because you’ve created them together.

Recently, Petr and I went on different double date – this time with Jesse and his now-wife Becca. The other day, we were texting and Jesse told me that they are moving soon to Los Angeles. I knew that Jesse always wanted to move back to LA, but I didn’t realize it was so soon. Petr and I made plans to come out to see his improv show and have dinner together.

Jesse has come a long way since our beginner classes — he is now on one of the teams that perform regularly at the Magnet Theatre. At the beginning of the show, when the team sought a prompt from the audience, I nudged Petr to yell out, “Melted Cheese” and he did. It was fun watching Jesse’s team perform and do silly stuff on stage and we all laughed a lot.

Afterwards, we walked ten minutes to have dinner at BCD Tofu House, a familiar restaurant for all of us. It is a large, bustling restaurant in Manhattan’s Koreatown that specializes in soondubu jjigae (spicy soft tofu stew). I used to dine there often with Jesse because it is located right across the street from the Magnet Training Center where we took lessons. Those meals were filled with discussions about improv, life, and everything in between. Petr and I too have had our fair share of experiences there– just two days earlier, we had eaten there with Petr’s friend Sebastian. From Jesse to Petr, to solo meals and gatherings with past friends and lovers, the restaurant has been a silent witness to many seasons of my life.

During dinner, our conversations revolved around our upcoming adventures: their move to LA, Jesse’s trip to Norway, Becca’s trip to Mexico with her mom, and my trip to Taiwan with Petr. With so much movement on the horizon, I couldn’t help but realize just how much Jesse has changed over time and that I was getting to know him in a different way– as a married man, ready to move to LA with Becca to start their family together. It’s still Jesse, but a slightly different one. Maybe there is no true Jesse that exists at all, only the Jesse that is in front of me each time we see each other. Just as there is no true BCD Tofu House, only the tasty tofu and memories it offers with each visit. My relationship with Becca is not as layered and deep yet as with Petr and Jesse, and getting to know all of them, as well as getting to know myself, will be an ongoing journey.

It is natural to be unsure when things are changing, but isn’t it wonderful too that they always are? That you can never really know anyone because they are not the same as when you last met? And isn’t it interesting that you too are constantly changing and that each moment is an opportunity to notice the subtle change that is happening?

All this time, I’ve been resistant to change. I suppose I am changing now too to recognize its presence and to appreciate its beauty.

* I first had arugula studying abroad in Florence, Italy, where it was called “Rocket”. Everyone would talk about how amazing these panino with prosciutto and rocket were. I was not used to eating cured meats and arugula and I found it meh (and borderline ew). I felt like I was the only one who didn’t get it. Nowadays, I am more comfortable with my dislike for arugula, but I still give it a chance and try it from time to time, only to realize I still do not like it. Congratulations, you now know way more about me and arugula than you thought you ever would 🚀