relationships

Romantic Realism


"MARRIAGE AND PISTOL LICENSE" office...

Image via Wikipedia

New, and yet not particularly new at all, research on sex and its many tentacles wrapped around America is snaking through the Internet in various forms. One section of the report in particular garners a predictable amount of attention in our “endangered” man era, and that is the “revelation” that young men aren’t faring well academically or career-wise when compared to young women.

That the sky is falling on masculinity is not new. As early as a decade ago, the plight of boys struggling to cope with a female dominated and driven public education system was already causing much wringing of hands and dire predictions for the future. But what is causing angst now is that despite being poor catches overall, young men still set the romantic and sexual agenda and women play ball or buy a vibrator.

And I am left wondering, how this is different from when I was a twenty-something? Men were not “endangered” and yet still got to make the rules where dating and relationships were concerned. Men decide “where, when, and what type of commitment” now and always from my perspective. So nothing new to see here, people, move along.

That the problem is men has never been a real issue. This male “crisis” is just another distraction from the real problem, which is that women – to a large degree – take a long time getting over the idea that they have to bend over to have a relationship at all. We are schooled in tactical compromise from birth and foolishly never really learn to set our boundaries and walk away when they are violated.

Our training begins with each other. It’s in the feral packs that make up the mined land of girlish friendship where indoctrination begins. We can’t blame men for this. We are vicious and conniving and manipulative from near go when boys don’t matter one iota, and the prize is the “best friend” or the highest ranking social clique. Training ground zero that sets us up neatly for the games that boys and men play to maximize their “innate”* need to sow as many fertile fields as possible with the least amount of encumbrance.

I posted a link to my Facebook page from Slate’s DoubleX, summarizing the continuing state of affairs – that being that men are still encouraged by society to be schmucks, and women are expected to contort themselves in flanking maneuvers – and ended up in a discussion with a writer friend who is decidedly anti-marriage at the least and anti-monogamy at the most. Her contention – as tired and worn as feminism itself –  is that marriage is a trap. Women should strive to be militant in their abhorrence of it, and that the fact that marriage is on the downward slope (although – statistically, relationships dominate in terms of society. More of us couple exclusively than don’t) is proof that women have “come a long way, baby”.

Marriage or civil unions, in my opinion, protect both partners when the aim is a long-term – possibly life long – relationship. There is no other option that better ensures the safety of each than a certificate of binding and entwining. People who live together without any sort of legal sanction, even if they are proactive enough to change all the beneficiaries on insurance and studiously set up the joint this and that will still find themselves a signature or legal protection short at the end of that terrible day when something unthinkable happens. And something unthinkable is not just what happens to other people. Though the cohabitation crowd thinks not and begs the question, who is really the romantic with unrealistic expectations here?

But my friend, not really knowing me at all, thought my belief in marriage, and my ire at the way young people today blithely ignore reality because it gets in the way of spontaneity or is so “yesterday in a grandparent kind of way”, is based on my sweetly romantic notions about relationships.

What?

I am not sweet nor  particularly romantic. I am the women who nagged her husband of just a month to make an appointment with the lawyer so we could draw up wills, get POA’s and such settled before our marriage certificate was even inked and in the post. I am the one who point-blank told her late husband that “I don’t play house so when spring rolls around if we are not planning a wedding, I will consider myself free to pursue other options”. Knowing what you want, stating it, and acting is  – in my opinion – what “independence” means.

My marriage is quite cuddly, and I am of the opinion that married is a far preferable state to single, but that is because Rob and I work at the cuddly, fan those flames and because out of the nearly 30 years I have been legally an adult, I have spent 2/3rds of the time single. I am not easily fooled by the feminist nostalgia about “having it all” nor I am dumb enough to fall for the notion that independence is something one can only have when one is alone. Independence is an internal mindset that should not be confused with one’s physical state of being – ever.

Being single is lonely and it can be scary when push comes to shove. It’s doable. I did it. But I am not naive enough to prefer it. I am also not so unschooled in the ways of survival that I don’t know that there is a definite advantage to being properly matched and mated. I don’t advocate pairing up with just anyone. And that’s brings me back to the problem of young men and young women. The latter still believes that men can be molded and the former know this well enough to use the knowledge to get sex without deserving it.

You should like the person you live with. Respect him and be respected in turn. There should be fun and love and a willingness to throw in together come what may. There should also be a healthy realistic perspective because no relationship is perfect and bumps and ebb/flow is normal. My perception is that too few people go into relationships with any idea of where they want to ultimately be years down the road. They are suckered by the ridiculous free love notions of the 70’s and the Me/Me/Me mentality of the Boomers that is the root of a lot more than relationship issues in our society today.

I love being married, but only because I love Rob. He is my match. My lobster. There is just as much to lose as there is to gain when troths are plighted, and one must put priority on the intangibles first. Love is more important than physical independence, but it’s not attainable until you are truly independent. Only those who have the courage to state their needs and see that they are met and who listen and give in the same vein are going to find contentment in marriage. It’s only when you peel away the juvenile view of romance that you find the real thing.

*Which is just so much bullshit. Men and women are not bonobos. We are not slaves to our Jungian archetypes. The human species is the least endangered in terms of population, so the idea that men are “seed sowers” and can’t help themselves is just one more baseless argument put forth by people who are just too selfish and lazy and own – out loud – that they are selfish and lazy where relationships are concerned.

Related Articles

Disney Weddings


Kissing the bride

Image via Wikipedia

Rob’s mother marries this coming weekend. Though originally set to be a June bride, which would have made it possible for more family and friends to attend, the groom’s border crossings were increasingly contentious as Canada is not keen on the whole “marrying outside your nationality” thing, although they are less snarky about it than the U.S., whose crossing guards are even ruder than usual to a potential non-citizen spouse.

We had planned to mini-celebrate the nuptials after the fact at Christmas because the bride and groom to be were to be wed two weeks prior, but the plans were squelched by a Nazi parish priest, who insisted on pushing it back to January.

Traveling through the Canadian Rockies at the height of winter is no one’s idea of a good time. Least of all Rob’s. He’s slogged more than his fair share of white knuckle high mountain snowy road driving and his whole being visibly sagged at the prospect of attending a January wedding in the Okanogan Valley.

“We’re flying,” he said.

Not that this is a much better solution. His mother and fiance took about seven hours between delays and sitting on the tarmac to complete the flight here to Edmonton that normally takes less than an hour.

“Maybe the trip will be a respite.” Rob told me as he eyed the Weather Network for temps and precipitation estimates for the weekend. A balmy plus 4C and rain.

He will give the bride away. His mother didn’t have the full on Catholic wedding the first time and is determined to right that past injustice.

Dee was asked to be a flower girl and she is, naturally, giddy with joy at the prospect of donning  a white dress and having her own bouquet. She was quite put out that I didn’t get her a bouquet of her own when Rob and I married. An injustice to check off another list.

My mother-in-law then asked me to read. I couldn’t say no even though it’s probably very inappropriate for a non-believer to get up on the altar and recite scripture.

Especially a verse that she refused to have read at her own Catholic wedding going on twelve years ago.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

A total load of drivel that has no basis in a non-Disney princess reality.

Love has, as far as I know, not a single magical property to make anyone less human. Everything Corinthians talks about is perfectly human and very much a part of just about any relationship a body could have from the one with your significant other to the most superficial interactions with the strangers we run across daily.

I understand it’s appeal and why it’s a wedding favorite. The day one marries is full of promise but also wildly unrealistic expectations of absolute bliss forever that shouldn’t be encouraged.

What did I choose back in the day?

Something from Revelations – which in retrospect is an odd place to go hunting for scripture readings – and the Psalms. One of those semi-porn things that David or Solomon supposedly wrote.

Rob and I had only the vows that the province of Alberta insists everyone use and are, frankly, the best vows I have ever read, spoken or heard.

People should have the weddings they want. It’s one of those things you don’t get to do over and not getting it “right” the first time can be like a grain of sand in an oyster shell for some. Not much of an irritant at first and not destined to be a pearl at any point down the line.

It would likely be argued that Corinthians is extolling the virtues of the Creator, but I think that’s crap. The God I’ve read and been taught about is a tyrant where love is concerned and expects way more than he gives back.

Aside from my reservations about the scripture, I am uncomfortable participating in Catholic ceremonies simply because they are sacraments. It’s not exactly blasphemous on my part but it is tinged with a certain amount of disrespect. But how does one say “no” to a request from someone ones cares about on such an important day in his/her life?

You don’t. You can’t. So you compromise yourself a bit because in its essence it’s not an act that affects my immortal self as much as the bad karma of refusing would.

In yoga, we strive to cause no injury. One of the examples my teacher gave was the story of a monk who accepted the hospitality of a family while he was on a journey through the mountains of Tibet. The monk was a strict vegetarian, but the mountain folk of Tibet are not and they offered him a meat stew. The monk was faced with a dilemma. Eat the stew and violate his own beliefs or refuse and hurt the family, who had no idea that their meal was an affront.

The monk ate the stew and considered it the very best choice. Between eating a bit of meat and doing harm to the good intentions of well-meaning people – the feelings of people win. As they should.

Happy 2008!


Last New Year’s Eve found me on the computer at midnight after an earlier dinner out with my friends, Vicki and C.J. At one point in the evening two gentlemen were sending us drinks but while Vicki egged them on, I just felt as though they were pushing in where they were not wanted – at least by me. As I cruised the net into the wee hours I would periodically check my mail for a message from Rob. He had said he would write when he got back from B.C. where he spent Christmas with the girls and in-laws. I found the following message from him:

Ann,

Just checking in to see how your holidays and New Year went. I have to confess that I already know a bit from reading your latest blog entries – I hope you don’t mind? Anyways, I hope it was as good as it could be for you and Katy. I trust that Santa was good to her.

I have to confess also that I continue to be a bit surprised and amazed at how you articulate (in your posts and in your blogs) much of what I find myself thinking these days. That whole new widow/hollow eye thing at Katy’s grief group – that’s kind of how I feel about new members on ywbb. I find myself avoiding those forums, those posts. I just can’t spare any more of me to share that much pain, I guess.

The holidays passed well enough for me and my girls. We spent just the right amount of time (maybe a bit too much) with Shelley’s sister on the coast (of BC); after a few days, well let’s just say that a few days is enough. Got to do some of the usual things while there – one day a couple of hours kayaking along the coast with BIL, a couple of days hiking in the nearby parks. I’ve been placing some of Shelley’s ashes at select places – places that held special meaning to her or us or were just her favourite places. I found two more such places while visiting on the coast. Travel was uneventful both ways for the most part – weather cooperated and highways were good enough. At least, we stayed on the road and that’s what counts.

Interesting event last night. After we got home, the girls both departed for their respective NYE plans and I called and begged off from where I had been invited – too tired after 12 hours of driving. I was doing a little e-mail and internetting (that damned addiction) and a little after midnight (my time) the phone rings. Who could that be? Turns out it was my new ywbb friend – calling to wish me a happy new year. It was a bit awkward given that we haven’t spoken before – just e-mail and IM. I am amazed at her courage, but I will say it was nice to have someone call out of the blue to say they were thinking of me. Since I don’t really have that anymore.

Well, I’m starting to run to the maudlin here, so will close for now. I’m hoping for better things in the new year. Starting back to work tomorrow morning (if I can get up at 6 am……). And organizing a ‘bago dinner for the weekend after next will take up a bit of time. Not to mention the butterflies that go along with meeting a group of new people, widows no less.

Again, hope the holidays went well and wishing you and Katy all the best for 2007!

Take care.
Rob

I replied.

Rob,

Glad your holiday went well. No I don’t mind that you
read the blog. I am trying not to neglect it the way I
did last month. I need to write and get back to
working through the knots in my novel. Need to make
more of an effort to stay away from YWBB as it is
sucking up time I could use for more productive
pursuits. A goal for the new year. I have pretty much
given up the other widows’ site in the UK that I also
visited, so I can probably give this one up too. It
either swamps me with other people’s grief or makes me
feel guilty for not grieving enough. Chat is boring
me. IM is starting to annoy me with it’s impersonal
feel as well.

Lucky you to get a phone call. I am going to guess
that this was not your train wreck friend. It’s nice
to have someone real to talk to and who cares enough
to check up. I got a call too, but I am not as pysched
about it.

It sounds like you had fun last week with some
favorite activities. That’s good. You probably need
that before starting back to work. I am impressed with
the time and care and thought you have put into your
memorializing. I had thought about scattering some of
Will’s ashes but couldn’t bring myself to open the
container or keep any in the house. I sleep with the
lights on too often as it is. I hope you don’t mind
that I read your posts about your trip in the fall. It
was interesting. I looked up the pictures too. Made me
smile. Will always wore a cap. Pittsburgh Steelers. He
would have loved the truck too.

The bago CJ is planning is at the end of the month.
She doesn’t think we will have many people but that’s
okay. You have to start somewhere. Meanwhile, we have
the Governor’s ball on the 12th. Music and dancing. I
am hoping that I won’t be as reticent as I was last
night with the two guys bought us drink. I need
practice I suppose.

School starts Wednesday. I am hoping to be there but I
have been in bed nearly all day with something. I feel
awful and can’t decide if it is flu or bronchitis. I
will probably try to see my doctor in the morning. I
didn’t want to risk the walk-in clinic today. You can
sit for hours on a holiday and that just increases the
odds of catching something nastier on top of what you
have already. Next week is finals which is an easy
week.

Have a good day tomorrow.
Ann

Not exactly the stuff of romance novels, but that wasn’t to be us for a while yet.

Last night we shared a midnight kiss in the bathroom doorway because we lost track of the time getting ready for bed and there were teenagers prowling about yet. We finished one of the most depressing dvd’s to date (a difficult feat, believe me) called Winter Passing with Ed Harris, Will Ferrell and Zooey Deschanel. Suicide. Widowhood. Complicated grieving. More – almost – suicide. You know, typical happy new year stuff. I have to shrug and laugh a bit as we keep the streak of downer movies alive.

This morning it was just the three of us – Rob, Katy and I – at breakfast. Our guest were still slumbering. Tea, smoothies, fresh cherries and pancakes. Topped off by a team effort (minus Katy) to complete the NY Times crossword (I think they threw us a bone for the end of the year).

My sister-in-law emerged from the guest row in full woe-is-me ultra-apologetic form. We countered her with the bright side and she retreated again. You just can’t throw to much of the light of practicality on people who are determined to feel neglected and cursed by the universe.

As the afternoon begins we are making are escape for the city. Rob has been hauling junk out of the basement and garage for a week or so now and stuff needs to go before our yard takes on to much of a white trash aura. I am writing and finishing up my scanning of the Canadian Writer’s Market book that I got from Rob for Christmas. I am paying particular attention to those publications which inform one that “we can’t pay for submissions right now” but pleas submit anyway. Those suit me best as I can’t be paid until I have my PR status approved in another, hopefully, three-ish months.

A quiet afternoon in the truck tooling the city and then home to the dry sauna, shower and partake of the yummy homemade soy-chicken soup I have going in the slow-cooker. Sis-in-law and children made it to the grocery story yesterday as they have tired of being polite and eating our organic, healthy fare. I was telling Rob right before they arrived that I am growing impatient with the idea that I must bend to the eating habits of the world in general even in my own home. My many food intolerance’s are not of any concern to the world. Whenever we eat out or eat at someone’s home, I am forced to pick and forage as I may. Let them “eat cake” when they come to visit me is my new motto.

So, a Happy New Year to all who are reading this. A special thanks to Marsha and Sally my most faithful readers and commenters who keep me grounded with their wisdom. Also a welcome to The Girl Left Behind and a thank you for reading. Finally, an “I love you” to my Rob – my editor and biggest fan.

My horoscope for 2007 informed me that the year would be one on the order of great. This year’s prediction is much the same. I wonder if we make these predictions a reality through belief, hard work or both?