Tag Archives: Marriage

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Ring Around the Rosy, Pocket Full of Bologna

I would be blatantly lying if I said I didn’t want to get married.

Like many women (and men, for that fact), I dream of the day when I get to express my love for Mr. Right in front of everyone who is near and dear to me. I think of my first apartment with my hubby and how together, we’ll dress it up into something worth living in, even if we don’t have a ton of money. And of course, like little girls who long for princes, I cut out a wedding dress picture out of an old Time magazine that I loved…and still have that clipping today.

I really don’t think it is wrong to want to be married or to find your partner or to desire that once-in-a-lifetime love. But what I find scary and a little bit intimidating…is how quickly that “time” in my life is coming up. Sure, I’m single (and learning to love it) – but more likely than not, I’ll probably be married before I’m 30.

In those times when I’m down on myself or feeling ugly or when its super cold and I really want to snuggle up to someone, I wonder “Why are all my friends in serious relationships, engaged, or married?” And then being obsessive and addicted to the internet, I stalk Facebook and scan through wedding picture after engagement picture after kissy-face picture, and become even more depressed.

But recently (even with progress, we have our off days), as I was figuring out how I was going to make it through and to the six weddings I’m invited to next year without feeling like a complete NYC cat lady, questions came bubbling up in my head like the champagne I anticipated drowning myself in:

Are you really ready to get married? Is that really what you want right now? And why is it that you think a marriage will make you feel better about yourself and happy?

Yes, I’m admittedly jealous of those who have found their partners – but I really do have such a privilege to be single in the city I adore, without having to worry about planning a wedding or asking someone else what they think before I make a decision. As I’ve said before, sometimes a date with freedom is better than any date a man could take me on.

So many people and especially my single girlfriends (like me) seem to believe that once you find that incredible person we all long for, that everything else just makes sense. Everything falls into place. Bad thoughts go away, worries subside, and blissful happiness follows wherever you go. This person, in their infinite wonderfulness completes your life.

Well, I’d like to think that I complete myself.

Sure, I want someone to make love to, share similar goals and interests with, and travel with, and I’m sure I’ll have it – but emotionally, shouldn’t I be enough? Does a ring around my finger, or my rosy, and thinking that “I do” solves all problems, give me a pocket full of bologna?

The whole idea of marriage and what it means and who is worthy of it or not has caused so much controversy. Yes, it’s a sacred and precious thing that too many people enter in lightly, but it’s not the end-all-be-all to our lives. There are so many things in this life that are important – our health, our happiness, our careers, our friendships, our adventures, our children, our relationship with ourselves, and while those things may involve a partner, the partner doesn’t make those things worth having or developing.

What does a ring have to do with it all really? Why is it so important? Why are some of my friends so obsessed with getting the ring and getting married, that it’s all they talk about? And why are we so worried about until-death-do-we-part so early in life?

Why do we automatically look on a man’s hand to see if he’s married when we find him attractive? Or when we see a pretty, tad bit older, womanwithout a ring, we wonder why? Is the ring around the finger really a symbol of completion? Or is it just the representation that you’ve found love, but the rest of you is still intact and prospering?

So, really all this worrying and searching and wondering if my “prince” will come along is wasteful.

Maybe everyone has already known this, but it’s something I’m finally realizing. My expectations for marriage, for this lustful union, have been way too unrealistic. Marriage isn’t a pain killer, but a nice upper and stabilizer for when the going gets tough or the good gets better. My wedding won’t start my happily after, but rather, just the first day in a new segment of my life. If I change my last name (which may be difficult for me to do because I love it so much), it doesn’t change who I am, where I’ve come from, or what I learned. Getting married doesn’t make me lose my identity of being an obsessive, worrying freak of nature who happens to be loving, fun, and kind, too – it just adds someone who gets to spend the rest of his life putting up with me (and vice versa).

One day I’ll put on the white dress and I’ll walk towards the man I want to share my life with, and I’m sure it’ll be nothing like I’ve dreamt or expected it to be. It’ll be most likely be even more than any imagination could conjure. But until I meet someone who comes close to fulfilling that part of my life – I’m not going to focus on it. I’m not going to worry or fear or wonder or place pressure. I’ll be happy for my friends and gladly celebrate their romance, without feeling the need to drink excessively (although, I probably will since it’s free!).

Because no matter how old I am, where I am in my life, or who is the person I marry – at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m still full of flaws and beauty, hope and disappointments, inspiration and sadness. Just as love addiction isn’t going to be the largest part of me, marriage won’t be either. It just serves as an addition to my story and is no where near the final chapter.

I don’t want to get caught up in the ring-around-the-rosy, never ending cycle of wondering if he’s out there or if marriage is meant for me or if I need to be tamed. I don’t want to be part of the spinning web of doubt and envy, before someone tells me to drop all hands and settle down. I don’t want to dance in circles; I want to dance on tables.

I don’t want to be defined by marriage by a ring or by a bouquet of posies; I want to be defined by myself.

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It Was the Spring of 1985

Back in the late Spring of 1985, a woman named Kim and a man named Jim met at a bar.

Because it was the 80’s, Kim sported a black jumpsuit on her tiny (but sexy, of course) 120-pound-frame, and Jim wore an all white outfit…with the buttons undone to show his tanned chest.

It wasn’t exactly the ideal night for either of them –Jim was the DD for the evening and Kim wasn’t getting asked to dance like she usually did. They were both enjoying the scene and the company of their friends, but it wouldn’t go down in the books as an incredible night out.

It would however, be the night that fate played both of them an interesting card.

Jim saw Kim from across the room and as the tales will always tell –he just knew. He knew whoever this woman was, whatever her status or name or style, that she was the one who was designed for him. He knew he would marry her.

Kim however, wasn’t too keen on the idea. After dancing with Jim, she found him cocky and arrogant, and of course he was a damn Yankee from New Jersey, while she was a sweet and sassy gal from North Carolina. Kim’s friend saw the spark between them and without informing Kim first, gave Jim her phone number.

Every weekend from May until about November, Jim called Kim and asked her out on a date. And every single time, Kim had plans –and yet, Jim would call back in a week just to see if maybe she was free. One night, Kim saw a shooting star and for some reason, thought of Jim, and like clockwork, he called the next day to ask her out. Finally, because something told her to just give him a chance, she agreed to go hiking on the parkway.

And there, on top of a mountain, Jim put his arms around Kim…and then she too, just knew. Right there in front of her and on her answering machine was the guy she had waited for, for so long. The guy who against all odds and all her rejection, just knew he wanted her and only her. A month later, Jim proposed, and in February of 1986, the two got married in a little church on a little budget…with lots of love.

Now, 25 years later, they are still happily married and very much in love. Together, they have flipped several houses, traveled, and seen the worse of the worse, and passed the most difficult of trials. Yet, at the end of the day or the end of a very long battle –they still fought for one another and for the love they found in that bar and on that mountain.

And of course, they had one daughter –a 22-year-old writer with her mother’s spunk and her father’s charm, living in New York City.

My parent’s love story is an absolutely amazing one and it’s one that I hope I’ll have one day. I got lucky that my parents are both independent and strong people, and when they haven’t been, I have watched as they have held each other to support them. I admire both of them for their courage and their ability to forgive each other with such honesty, such sincerity, and such unconditional love.

Being an only child, you really get a firsthand and bird’s eye view into the marriage of your mom and dad because you’re around them all the time. I’ve learned a lot about what it means to truly, full-heartedly, and completely love someone by watching my parents and how they handle situations that came up.

While I won’t get into my father’s illness just yet (which is a huge part of my love addiction in some ways), I will say that the period in my family’s life was awful. It pushed not only my father, but my mother and I to the furthest point we could go. It brought us together, it broke us down, made us realize our strength, and tore us apart. And after the ordeal finally came to a close –there was a lot of picking up to do.

What amazed me was how easily and how kindly my parents just…fell back to one another. Sure, the six-year period of ups and downs was not forgotten, but instead of holding a grudge or being angry or upset, my mom welcomed, embraced, and celebrated my father’s health. And my dad made a promise to spend the rest of his life making up the time they lost.

So, if step 4 is about going back and digging into my own relationships, I think merit has to be given to my parents. To the shining example of love and endurance and trust that they embody. To the two people who I truly believe can do anything.

Thank you, mom and dad for teaching me what true love is and to never strive for less than those sparks. You’re with me wherever I go, always.

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Can’t Tame This Tigar

As much as I’m a love-addict, sometimes if I think about the seriousness behind marriage –I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Given, I haven’t met someone who I have sincerely thought I would spend the rest of my life with (without any reservations, at least), but when I think of happily-ever-after, until-death-do-we-part, when your balls and my boobs sag – I feel intense anxiety.

When you find that special someone or you enter into a long-term relationship –you ultimately have to change who you are somewhat. Not necessarily your personality or actions or day-to-day doings, but your lifestyle changes when you have to consider someone else into the mix. “I” becomes “we” and Friday night’s question isn’t “Where’s happy hour?” but rather “What are you in the mood to do, dear?” Yes, you have me-time or girl-time – but when you say “I do” or accept a relationship request on Facebook, you sign (or click) away a part of your life.

A friend of mine, B, recently wrote to me and said “I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not meant to be tamed. I’m not willing to change who I am for a man, and I shouldn’t have to. I love being able to do what I want, when I want. I don’t have to let anybody know where I am, or call somebody before I do something, and I don’t have to think about questions like ‘Will we spend this holiday with your family or mine?’”

Tamed? To be in a healthy, loving, and committed relationship, does that mean you’re tamed? Is the reason it’s called “settling down” is because you literally settle down? After receiving this message from B, I decided to poll readers and friends about being “tamed” and how it relates to being in a relationship. (And sorry, I didn’t ask Miley Cyrus).

Here are the responses I received:

Single

“I feel like it should and it shouldn’t, ya know? Should because relationship is commitment, but shouldn’t because the reason someone wants a relationship with you is because you’re you.” –N

“No you’re only more tame in social situations because you don’t have to flirt, but in the bedroom, you must be super wild.” –S

“Once you’re in a long-term relationship, then you have someone else to consider so I suppose it does tame your behavior.” –S

“Being in a relationship doesn’t really have to mean that you are ‘tamed.’ I think a lot of it has to do with your personality and the personality of the person you are in a relationship with, as well as the dynamics of the relationship…Quite frankly, if you find the right person, you can do all the things you love and just simply have a partner in it.” -A

“No. I act just as I always do regardless if I’m in a relationship or not. If I’m not acting like myself, then I need to get out of the relationship.” –E

“I’ve found in most cases yes, but I’m waiting for a relationship where you still love and care about the other person (and vice versa) and they let you do whatever makes you happy.” -D

Taken (Married or in a relationship)

“Tamed? Did you need a trainer or tamer? No. Being in a stable relationship may make you more secure to embrace your wild side and explore more facets of yourself.” –P

“If ‘tamed’ means that you stop dancing on bars, then yes. But I’ve gone out more with my boyfriend than I ever would if I was alone. We go out every Monday and Wednesday for trivia night usually every Friday and Saturday for darts.” –A

“Well, you learn to do things differently. You do the things they want to do and how they want to do it. Just for the sake of keeping the peace.” –L

“It can. My boyfriend knows what my dreams are and what I want to accomplish, and he’s willing to let me run wild, as long as he can be part of it.” –S

“I do think you have to become tame in order for your relationship to work. I guess tamed is a strange word for it because you have to be yourself but you want to make the other person happy, so you don’t even think about that part of it, if it’s truly a relationship that you want.” –E

“I would say that I am a lot less reserved now that I’m in a serious and committed relationship because I feel like I can be as crazy as I can possibly be within moral bounds, and I don’t have to fear messing things up. I still have the freedom to do whatever I want, but what I want in a lot of aspects has changed.” -F

“Ohhhhhh no!  Here’s my philosophy: I wanted to marry him, so I could REALLY go hog wild….but just with him.” -J

So, you do have to be tamed (or maybe not), but you still do all that you want (but do things their way to keep the peace), you don’t dance on tables, but you should be incredibly ridiculous in the bedroom, make your partner part of your adventures (but make sure they love you for who you are) – but all of it, of course, depends on the relationship and the person you’re in a relationship with.

Quite contradictory right?

B highlights what’s considered a perk of being single: the ability to be completely and totally selfish. And I’ll be the first (along with all of you other single ladies who are addicted to love or not, I’m sure) that sometimes, not having to answer to anyone or anything or shape my plans around someone else’s schedule or desires is wonderful. I almost always get to do exactly what I want, when I want to do it, and my money, for the most part, is for me.

A pro of being a single gal is being able to sincerely focus on yourself, to run untamed and free (regardless if you act wild or not) and explore all of the things your curiosity sparks. I truly, 100 percent agree that by being single for longer (as in not getting married super early), you allow yourself a lot of time to grow and develop without having to consider who is laying next to you.

But most of us do want someone to share our lives with –tamed or untamed –doing it their way or our way or a way you create together. Eventually, we will have discussions about what to do, where we want to do it, and how to go about it with our partner.

So really, it’s not necessarily about being tamed. It’s more about learning how to compromise and figuring out what it is we’re willing to change and what we’re not about our lives or ourselves for another person. Then, the task is making sure the person you’re in a relationship with is okay with that.

But until that day, until I finish clearing my head of self-hating and love-obsessing thoughts, I will relish, just like B, in being selfishly single. In eating cupcakes at midnight, taking up my entire bed, painting my toenails while eating pudding, spending an hour at the grocery store and leaving with nothing, taking random trips because I can, and walking around my apartment in heels, a face mask, and drinking red wine singing along to old Backstreet Boys songs.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be “tamed” by my own definition of the word (submissive and obedient, like a dog), but I may be willing to share my cupcake. And maybe a sip of my wine. And especially if he can somewhat sing “Shape of My Heart.”