Oh my God it's so great that you have a boyfriend, but I mean, can you please just stop showing off the necklace, the ring, the stories of so much great sex, the cozy romantic nights, etc, etc? I was happy for you but now I just want you to break up so I can feel good again.
O.K., this is extreme. But many of us have been in a situation where we are being subjected to a ruminating, perseverating girlfriend regaling us over and over with story after anecdote of how amazing her partner is, how loving, how attentive, how wonderful. Which is, at first, wonderful. The bragging, in-your-face showing off quality of this can really become grating to the point of angering you out of your happiness for her in a very short period of time.
How about you? Have you done it yourself? Why do you do it? Have you found someone finally who treats you with respect, with love, even admiration? Does it make you want to shout about it from the rooftops and then, once you do, to grab everyone you see and tell them about it for the rest of the day?
Showing some restraint in all things, whether it is complaining or boasting, is a very good quality to have. Not only does it save your friends from having to wish you the worst, it also keeps some of that glee and joyful gratitude where it belongs; in your heart. Venting or complaining to friends helps us through difficult times, but too much is not okay, it's dumping. Likewise, sharing your joy and your passion with your friends is also the beauty of life and increases your happiness but too much doesn't smack of celebration, it smacks of insecurity.
The whole modern idea of the woman's engagement ring being the ultimate symbol of her achievement in her relationship embodies, for me, this bragging, conceit, this almost narcissistic desire to be envied, to be catapulted into the upper stratosphere of demi-goddesses on pedestals. With the engagement ring now being the center of the woman's accessories, she shoves it in people's faces on television, in gossip magazines, and, horribly, in real life. Her girlfriends are supposed to giggle and bow, or curtsey, or something; ladies-in-waiting blushing for the queen.