I came out of therapy with one conviction … that I never wanted to be married. Of course it wasn’t a new concept. I’ve played with the idea for years, and explained it wherever I could. To me, marriage has no benefit to women, and I have no reason to pursue it. After all, I already have a child, and I don’t enjoy catering to men.
And then I met this boy. I gave him all my arguments and reasons, and he smiled and said he loved me. I said, “I don’t want to have a man in my house. I’d get bored. I want to come home, put on my sweatpants, get some ice cream, and watch ID. I don’t want to spend my nights rubbing feet and massaging egos.”
He said, “One day, you’ll meet a man who cooks for himself, loves real women, doesn’t want more babies, has a simple ego that doesn’t need massaging, and makes sure that you’re never bored around him. When that happens, I will ask you to dance, and I hope you will agree.” *insert girly giggle and a possible swoon*
I can’t tell at what point marriage stopped seeming like such a ridiculous idea. Maybe it’s because my pretty boy hasn’t bored me yet. Maybe it’s because he meets my needs in ways I didn’t think were possible. Maybe I’m just drunk and high.
I’ve often said that even though marriage makes no earthly sense, we are biologically wired to want it. And so I suppose it makes sense that while my baby-bio-clock has left me in peace, my other bio clock has been lurking in the shadows and waiting to pounce. Well, for what it’s worth, I quite like the candidate it’s chosen…
I’m still a feminist at heart, but it feels nice to have a man around, a good man that lets me put my feet up and be a girl for once. It’s interesting that because my desires are being fulfilled, it’s a lot easier to do the dreaded S-word. No, not that S-word. I’ve never had a problem with that S-word. I mean the other S-word : submission.
For years I looked at my married (and girlfriended) friends and decided their men were controlling. Why would a smart, capable, able-bodied woman be doing xyz just because the man in her life wants her to? The horror! Me? I can’t. Nkt.
And yet I now find myself doing many of those things. Not because he wants me to, or asked me to, or expects me to. It’s because he makes me happy, and I know that doing xyz would make him happy. I’m not talking chandeliers. I’m talking simple things, like getting rid of a cute little desktop ornament that creeped him out.
I’m amused that more complex concepts have suddenly become appealing to me. Like changing my last name, or merging finances, or even going to church. To be fair, he plays in the band, so I’m more a smitten groupie than a mother’s union rep…
I want to say women have been hurt by men for centuries, and forward-thinking women are right to shun marriage. I want to say it’s logical to be against it until you meet the right man (and that there’s a massive pool to choose from). I want to say marriage is what you make it. It can be dull and dreary or functional and fun.
But … I’m not married yet, so I haven’t got a clue what it’s like. I’ve seen my family and friends’ relationships … from the outside … which isn’t seeing anything at all. Maybe when I’ve been Mrs. O for a few months and the novelty has worn off, I’ll come back to this blog post and destroy it with my powers of jaded wife-hood.
I think that for me, the most important part of feminism is choice. Women – like men – should have the option to do whatever they want in terms of life, love, careers, and lifestyle. Wear short dresses if you want. Be a CEO if you want. Get fifteen degrees if you want. Stay home and raise your kids if you want. Play ‘masculine sports’ if you want. And yes, marry. If you want. And I guess right now, I want 🙂
♫ Give me a reason ♫ Three days grace ♫
