Reading Penelope’s June post reminded me of what I used to one of my most frequent fears about marriage (before I actually got hitched).
The Cycle of Discontent…that percieved transformation from an independent, idealistic individual (or what I call an I cubed) to cog in the great marriage machine. A place where a person feels like they are becoming a stranger to themselves as they feel compelled to make choices they used to disdain. Literature and movies are full of this concept, from Ethan Frome to American Beauty.
And for the most part, I think it is a load of matrimony manure. (And that Penelope, you should cut yourself some intellectual slack.)
Combining two people’s lives into coherent but still some-what independent whole can be challenging even for people who aren’t married. Sometimes you have the energy, time and mental space to carefully plan out schedules, work thoughtfully through disagreements and the ability to make sure we are putting energy into our own individual ideals and needs.
Other times we do what we have to in order to in order to keep things relatively happy and moving along, sometimes sacrificing for a moment, that complete autonomy we felt before marriage, before obligations, before charting out a life after making a vow to connect our life to the person we love.
I think the problem isn’t in giving up the autonomy, it is when someone decides that this is how it has to be “all the time.” Some people fall into this for noble or practical temporary reasons (“This is how it is until the kids grow up.”) but then continue on in the same patterns even after the original reason is no longer there.
And it is this idea that scares many, and had soured me on the idea of marriage until I met a wonderful man who complimented me completely and nutured/supported/loved me in exactly the way I never realized I wanted/deserved/needed. (Look out for a future post on that.)
With all things in life, things work best when things are in balance. Yes, with marriage does come some sacrifice and at times, a loss of complete independence. But the pendulum should also swing the other way at certain times as we induldge ourselves in just being who we are…outside of being a devoted spouse.
Penelope…I love the fact that you can chide yourself about falling into some of the routines of a “desperate housewife” while at the same time realizing the neccesity of some of these behaviors for the time being. Anytime you need a a quick escape from the suburbs, you can call on me or any of your many friends who have not forgotten you.
And eventually, kids will grow up and some more of that autonomy will return. And when it does, I and others will ask you if there are any changes you made in your life that you would like to revisit now that some of the reasons for past restraints have been removed.
I’ll be honest though…I do struggle with this idea sometimes to. What would the me of 6 years ago say to the me of today if I observed some of the ways I’ve changed how I live my life?
But the thing is, I know the “old me” could never really understand, because he wouldn’t get how committing to someone and creating a life together has changed me and enriched my life in ways I never fathomed. And that I can now see a beauty in this process.
Even if there are moments where I do get nostalgic about the old glory days of “forging my own destiny,” the thing is…I’m still doing that, we all are. We have to remind ourselves of this fact, especially when we feel like we’ve been assimilated into the marriage collective.
You choose how you want to live your life…and by extension, your life as an individual, and your life as someone who is married. Not the other way around.
I’ll keep tabs on the cool city card shops in DC for now if you promise to keep bringing a little bit of your sophisticated city perspective to the kingdom of suburbia. (And to show me that farm where I can buy cage free eggs.)
– M. H.
We moved to the suburbs last winter, a week before the first “Snowpocalypse.” Since then, I’ve been acclimating. I do mourn certain aspects of city life that do not exist out here. I miss walking the dog and the baby to the grocery store, parking the dog outside, getting only enough food for dinner, then walking home after possibly another pit stop at the hardware store to give Brandine a drink of water. I miss all the eccentrics in my old neighborhood. I miss the community garden and the sociable trails in Rock Creek Park. I miss bringing Wren to the pool hall for dinner. But especially, I miss being able to say: I am an urbanite and I love it. Six months ago, I could tell a passerby where to get the best greeting cards and how to get there. (Pulp, Green Line to U Street.) Here in the burbs I can give driving directions (via a GPS Monty bought me) to a farm that sells cage free eggs. That’s very pleasant and locavore, but it’s not quite the same.
In a way, moving to the burbs is a farewell to my beautiful misspent youth. After Wren was born, Monty and I adapted to quiet nights in. Now, I don’t want to enter middle age pulling the same hedonistic stunts from the reckless olden days. But country life has had some serious effects on my mental framework. Which brings me to the title of this post: I have somehow transformed into a NIMBY.
Yesterday, I sent a message to my neighborhood listserv regarding some rumors of “rowdy” teenagers without “passes” causing “situations” at our community swimming pool. Really. From me. Long, long ago, my friends and I would sneak into apartment swimming pools at night and float around jugs of table wine. Now I’m concerned that normal excitable teens will disobey the noise rules. It’s so … incongruous. But you know what? I’ve got Wren now, and there’s no way I’m letting some millenial whippersnappers ruin her own beautiful youth.
–Penelope
Dear M.H.,
Mmm. New blog! So much clean space and potential. Time to clutter it up.
For orientation purposes, I have cut and pasted the “characteristics table” you wrote when we were brainstorming this thing.
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PENELOPE MODEL HUBBY
xoxo
Pen
Now Pronounce 