Marriage-phobia
I remember one day when I was 10, telling my parents I never wanted to get married. They laughed and told me that they wanted to tape-record me saying that so they could one day play it for my husband. Throughout my childhood other adults also treated it like it was a cute joke. I was sometimes told that those who say that are always the first to get married, usually right out of high school. I heard this so much that I also started to assume it was just a phase.
When I was in my 20s, I assumed I just hadn't met the right guy. This was also influenced by others. Everyone told me that when I met the right one I would just know it and automatically change the way I felt about marriage.
Then, when I was 30, I met the most amazing man (the aforementioned W.). I had one of those ridiculous moments that I thought only existed in romantic comedies where right after the first kiss, I swooned in his arms and turned into a pile of mush on top of him. I'd had a rough week and had been tense all night up until that moment. He told me, "It's nice to see you relaxed. You weren't before."
And, the more I got to know him, the better he was. We had so many crazy adventures together. I was impressed by his genuinely kind heart, how unselfish he is...He told me in the beginning that he wants to be the guy who gives me the fun I've never had before. I told him he was ambitious because I've had lots of fun. But, somehow he managed to accomplish this again and again. I always thought it was natural for things to calm down after awhile, but even years into this, I always felt giddy when a door would open and he was on the other side.
I'll admit I just got evasive when he tried to talk about the future...I know, I know...I hadn't admitted to myself that marriage-phobia was my problem. I just wanted to avoid thinking about it. So, I told myself it was too soon. I did have some valid concerns about he recently he'd been divorced, but I didn't even tell him that. I was too happy just being with him moment-to-moment. If we talked about things, it would have to change one way or the other. And, so far he wasn't pushing me beyond my comfort level.
But, he finally called me on these things. After 2 and a half years, he'd had enough. He figured I didn't care about him that much and he didn't want to end up alone over the long-term. I wanted to tell him all these things then, but it was too late. He no longer trusted me. It was like a door inside him had been slammed shut against me.
Nothing about the concept of being married appeals to me...well, except for one, the idea of knowing that I was completely his in some official way. But, it doesn't appeal to me when I try to visualize it on a day-to-day basis. He was wrong to think that I had lukewarm feelings for him, but right that I didn't want to move forward. I wanted to hold onto him, but I wanted the status quo. I don't want Ajax, dirty diapers, and for the most exciting thing that happens to me to be when I find a coupon.
It's not just the dysfunctional images of marriage that scare me either. It's also the ones that are supposed to be happy...the glowing faces of couples in Playskool commercials, the sweet, bumbling husbands on sitcoms, the cover of McCalls...all nauseate me. Actually, when I try to picture being married, I always see some completely innocuous memory from my childhood that I can't explain why, but it just comes with a cold, empty, dismal feeling.
I'm thinking more about this again now with the recent arguments about gay marriage. (Though if you're against gay marriage, I don't want to debate it here, since it's not the point of this post.) Why is it that it's so important for me to defend the right for gay couples to do something that as a heterosexual, I've never even wanted to do? I guess the most basic right in question here is for all couples to be able to get legal protection for their commitments to eachother. If that is all marriage really needs to be about, I would be fine with it. But, when it's built up to be something more, it's the whole mythology of marriage that I don't want. I just wanted to be with him without all of that attached to it. Maybe, it's because the idea of marrying for love is a modern one. Historically, it was about women being property and establishing gender roles. Some of that baggage is probably still there. Or, maybe it's because it's a state-sponsored thing and it becomes about more than just the two individuals. But, there's obviously something that makes a relationship often change after being married and not for the better.
What do people say when I point out the high divorce rate? They reassure me that marriage is just hard work, that you have to make it work, that you have to be committed to stay together no matter what. I have a hard time seeing why I should be in a hurry to get in a situation that I would just be resigned to. Being with the above-mentioned person never felt like "work" to me. I was always just happy to be there. I wasn't anxious to change that.
A problem I run into when I try to explain this to people is that they assume it's the same thing as commitmentphobia. It's not. I don't want to be any less committed to someone or to be emotionally distant. It's just the actual institution of marriage I have a problem with.
Some say that it's a way to guarantee that someone will always be there. Even if it did guarantee anything (if there was no divorce), doesn't it seem like a copout from treating someone well enough that they would want to stay? Some of the most miserable couples I know are proud martyrs for "making it work". They are so proud that while others divorce around them, they've been together for 20 or 30 years. They say that you just need to make sure you're both willing to stay no matter what. If this is the point of marriage, it's exactly why I wouldn't want to do it. I've lived without roommates since the moment I could afford to. I like my personal space. There are few people I can let into excessive amounts of it. So, staying married just to be married sounds like a lose-lose situation to me.
Also not helpful are those who say, "Don't be silly. Marriage is a wonderful, special thing." The reality is that the percentage of happy marriages is not very high. So, just because someone is happy in theirs doesn't mean that I would automatically be, too, if I just threw myself into one. (Not to mention that those who spew the most platitudes tend to be the most fake.) It doesn't help to try to deny that my concerns are valid. because they obviously are. A male friend who just ended an unhappy marriage told me that the three years he dated his wife before he married her were the happiest time of his life and then, it changed. I've also heard many similar stories. A recent survey shows that a third of married people see sex as a chore. Exchanging rings doesn't automatically make you live happily ever after. The only thing that might be helpful here is for someone to tell me exactly why and how despite all that, there is a version of being married that I could be happy with. I need to be able to clearly visualize it what exactly it is on a practical level, something I would actually look forward to. Right now, my only mental images are unappealing ones and I know that going into something with the wrong mind set is just destructive.
I've seen it happen again and again and again that people have had marriages blow up in their faces because they believed getting that certificate was what would make their relationship sacred and special, that it would create the love, happiness, security, intimacy, etc. even if it wasn't there before. Or, they thought living in a Leave It To Beaver world would make them happy until they found that the reality made them miserable. If there is a better reason than that, I want to know it.
Maybe, if I'd talk to him about these things, we could have figured something out that worked for us. Or maybe, we would have found that we just wanted different things and broken up anyway. But, I hate not knowing and I hate the way we left things.
It's been awhile now. I go on with my life and do different things, though there has been no one I've felt so intensely about since then. I don't worry about it too much on a day-to-day basis, because these things really all do fade with time. But, every now and then, there's a moment when something will trigger a vivid memory and then, I'll know that no matter what adventures I've had since then, nothing has come close to making me as happy as that relationship did.
I remember a night back then when after a few glasses of wine, he told me that every time his phone rings and he sees that it's me, his heart leaps a little. I so wish he felt that way now. I think it's good to ache and yearn for things, though. It keeps you from being complacent. It reminds me that I don't want to let something like that slip away again. I have to figure out what I want so that whatever it is, I can make it clear to someone. So, if anyone has taken the time to read and think about all of this, and has actual helpful feedback, it would be appreciated.
When I was in my 20s, I assumed I just hadn't met the right guy. This was also influenced by others. Everyone told me that when I met the right one I would just know it and automatically change the way I felt about marriage.
Then, when I was 30, I met the most amazing man (the aforementioned W.). I had one of those ridiculous moments that I thought only existed in romantic comedies where right after the first kiss, I swooned in his arms and turned into a pile of mush on top of him. I'd had a rough week and had been tense all night up until that moment. He told me, "It's nice to see you relaxed. You weren't before."
And, the more I got to know him, the better he was. We had so many crazy adventures together. I was impressed by his genuinely kind heart, how unselfish he is...He told me in the beginning that he wants to be the guy who gives me the fun I've never had before. I told him he was ambitious because I've had lots of fun. But, somehow he managed to accomplish this again and again. I always thought it was natural for things to calm down after awhile, but even years into this, I always felt giddy when a door would open and he was on the other side.
I'll admit I just got evasive when he tried to talk about the future...I know, I know...I hadn't admitted to myself that marriage-phobia was my problem. I just wanted to avoid thinking about it. So, I told myself it was too soon. I did have some valid concerns about he recently he'd been divorced, but I didn't even tell him that. I was too happy just being with him moment-to-moment. If we talked about things, it would have to change one way or the other. And, so far he wasn't pushing me beyond my comfort level.
But, he finally called me on these things. After 2 and a half years, he'd had enough. He figured I didn't care about him that much and he didn't want to end up alone over the long-term. I wanted to tell him all these things then, but it was too late. He no longer trusted me. It was like a door inside him had been slammed shut against me.
Nothing about the concept of being married appeals to me...well, except for one, the idea of knowing that I was completely his in some official way. But, it doesn't appeal to me when I try to visualize it on a day-to-day basis. He was wrong to think that I had lukewarm feelings for him, but right that I didn't want to move forward. I wanted to hold onto him, but I wanted the status quo. I don't want Ajax, dirty diapers, and for the most exciting thing that happens to me to be when I find a coupon.
It's not just the dysfunctional images of marriage that scare me either. It's also the ones that are supposed to be happy...the glowing faces of couples in Playskool commercials, the sweet, bumbling husbands on sitcoms, the cover of McCalls...all nauseate me. Actually, when I try to picture being married, I always see some completely innocuous memory from my childhood that I can't explain why, but it just comes with a cold, empty, dismal feeling.
I'm thinking more about this again now with the recent arguments about gay marriage. (Though if you're against gay marriage, I don't want to debate it here, since it's not the point of this post.) Why is it that it's so important for me to defend the right for gay couples to do something that as a heterosexual, I've never even wanted to do? I guess the most basic right in question here is for all couples to be able to get legal protection for their commitments to eachother. If that is all marriage really needs to be about, I would be fine with it. But, when it's built up to be something more, it's the whole mythology of marriage that I don't want. I just wanted to be with him without all of that attached to it. Maybe, it's because the idea of marrying for love is a modern one. Historically, it was about women being property and establishing gender roles. Some of that baggage is probably still there. Or, maybe it's because it's a state-sponsored thing and it becomes about more than just the two individuals. But, there's obviously something that makes a relationship often change after being married and not for the better.
What do people say when I point out the high divorce rate? They reassure me that marriage is just hard work, that you have to make it work, that you have to be committed to stay together no matter what. I have a hard time seeing why I should be in a hurry to get in a situation that I would just be resigned to. Being with the above-mentioned person never felt like "work" to me. I was always just happy to be there. I wasn't anxious to change that.
A problem I run into when I try to explain this to people is that they assume it's the same thing as commitmentphobia. It's not. I don't want to be any less committed to someone or to be emotionally distant. It's just the actual institution of marriage I have a problem with.
Some say that it's a way to guarantee that someone will always be there. Even if it did guarantee anything (if there was no divorce), doesn't it seem like a copout from treating someone well enough that they would want to stay? Some of the most miserable couples I know are proud martyrs for "making it work". They are so proud that while others divorce around them, they've been together for 20 or 30 years. They say that you just need to make sure you're both willing to stay no matter what. If this is the point of marriage, it's exactly why I wouldn't want to do it. I've lived without roommates since the moment I could afford to. I like my personal space. There are few people I can let into excessive amounts of it. So, staying married just to be married sounds like a lose-lose situation to me.
Also not helpful are those who say, "Don't be silly. Marriage is a wonderful, special thing." The reality is that the percentage of happy marriages is not very high. So, just because someone is happy in theirs doesn't mean that I would automatically be, too, if I just threw myself into one. (Not to mention that those who spew the most platitudes tend to be the most fake.) It doesn't help to try to deny that my concerns are valid. because they obviously are. A male friend who just ended an unhappy marriage told me that the three years he dated his wife before he married her were the happiest time of his life and then, it changed. I've also heard many similar stories. A recent survey shows that a third of married people see sex as a chore. Exchanging rings doesn't automatically make you live happily ever after. The only thing that might be helpful here is for someone to tell me exactly why and how despite all that, there is a version of being married that I could be happy with. I need to be able to clearly visualize it what exactly it is on a practical level, something I would actually look forward to. Right now, my only mental images are unappealing ones and I know that going into something with the wrong mind set is just destructive.
I've seen it happen again and again and again that people have had marriages blow up in their faces because they believed getting that certificate was what would make their relationship sacred and special, that it would create the love, happiness, security, intimacy, etc. even if it wasn't there before. Or, they thought living in a Leave It To Beaver world would make them happy until they found that the reality made them miserable. If there is a better reason than that, I want to know it.
Maybe, if I'd talk to him about these things, we could have figured something out that worked for us. Or maybe, we would have found that we just wanted different things and broken up anyway. But, I hate not knowing and I hate the way we left things.
It's been awhile now. I go on with my life and do different things, though there has been no one I've felt so intensely about since then. I don't worry about it too much on a day-to-day basis, because these things really all do fade with time. But, every now and then, there's a moment when something will trigger a vivid memory and then, I'll know that no matter what adventures I've had since then, nothing has come close to making me as happy as that relationship did.
I remember a night back then when after a few glasses of wine, he told me that every time his phone rings and he sees that it's me, his heart leaps a little. I so wish he felt that way now. I think it's good to ache and yearn for things, though. It keeps you from being complacent. It reminds me that I don't want to let something like that slip away again. I have to figure out what I want so that whatever it is, I can make it clear to someone. So, if anyone has taken the time to read and think about all of this, and has actual helpful feedback, it would be appreciated.