Emergency Contact

Geplaatst op 11-12-2025

Defining Commitment Beyond the Ring

When my ex and I moved in together, it was more than just gathering her things and putting them at my place. She moved clear across the country for me. Her whole life, about to mix up with my own, and we had to find room for it all in my moderately-sized one-bedroom apartment.

Most of it was easy. She had her own closet, I had mine. We shared dresser space. I think, to help get her a proof of address we even changed my name on the gas and electric bill to hers.

Yeah, there were a lot of things we did to merge our lives together because I think for both of us, we wanted to fully immerse ourselves in this idea of being a team, a unit. But one of the most pivotal steps we made towards embodying the idea of being one unit is when she put me down on a form as her Emergency Contact.

I don't quite remember what form she was filling out, but if I recall, I think it was me who insisted she put me down as her In Case of Emergency contact (ICE). I'll admit, in retrospect, there was a sense of romanticism about it. I wanted to be her hero, her everything. If something were to go wrong, I wanted to be the first to know and the first to help. To me, my ex was my responsibility. I asked her to move out to New York City to be with me, told her parents I would take good care of her, and nothing symbolized my readiness to do that more than speaking up and saying, "Put me down as your ICE."

The Weight Of Being Someone's First Call

I don't think my ex looked at the move the same way. Although I doubt her hesitancy was based on any reservations about her trusting my ability to take care of her (she already made the move, so clearly she didn't lack confidence in my role as protector), I do think it was one of those small moments where we both realized the gravity of this move. Building a strong foundation of trust means someone feels secure enough to make you their safety net.

I understood exactly what she was going through, because like her, I made the move clear across the country, first from Cali to D.C. and then to New York and I always hesitate when I'm asked to fill out the blank space. I have an older brother who lives in New York, a man who I didn't grow up with and didn't get to know until I was in my early-20s. There's no doubt in my mind he would drop whatever he's doing to help me in case of an emergency, but sometimes I still put my mom down, as though if something were to go wrong she could hop on a flight from Seaside to Harlem and be here before the ambulance, police, or rescue unit can. I had never put down a woman other than my mom until my ex moved in.

In my phone I actually have "Mom" for my mom, "Sister" for my sister, and Brother 1 and 2 for my older brothers. That's the way it's been for years because I always felt like if someone needed to contact a family member on my behalf and wanted to scroll through my phone to figure out who to call, the titles of these people would be their first calls. Fortunately, I don't know how those things work, other than you're also supposed to put (ICE) in your phone before a name if they are someone who needs to be contacted during an emergency.

Defining Commitment Beyond Traditional Symbols

But what to make of the person in our lives who isn't blood or family? Hell, they're not even a spouse or a fiance. As a follow-up question to the "ICE" section, there sometimes is a "Relation" space where we have to tell the people looking at the application how our ICE fits into our lives. As though it really matters. That question is so stupid. Why is it even there? Is there some sort of ICE hierarchy and if someone puts down "Boyfriend" or "Girlfriend", does the person in charge of calling the ICE start researching another name? Does "Boyfriend" or "Girlfriend" tie with "Roommate" on the sliding scale of ICE's? True commitment goes beyond symbols or grand romantic gestures.

The way I see it, if someone is willing to put down a person to whom they're not married or related as their ICE, some deep feelings have risen to the surface. As though we're saying, "Look, I know they're just my boyfriend or my girlfriend, but if you're asking me right now who I trust to save me from all the world's dangers, who would kill for and die for me before they let anyone do the same, it's this person."

This post is not intended to serve as some sort of propaganda against engagement or marriage. Nor is this post about my ex. This is just some food for thought on the ways we like to think of commitment and devotion and how sometimes it goes much deeper than a ring, or even moving in with one another. When we're with someone to whom we're not married or not related, to whom a bond is established but not symbolized through outwardly, surface-level things, how can we prove that what we feel for them is beyond the surface too? All healthy relationships are built on trust, which often shows up in small but meaningful choices.

I guess the answer is a lot of ways, but one way I think about is through that blank space, right next to "In Case of An Emergency". If I want her to put down my name and I want to put down hers, I think it's safe to say we have every intention of keeping our names there for a very long time.