So let’s talk about this idea of settling. And let’s be honest. Most of you have done it. Yes, I said it. Yes, I meant it. Half of
you will be divorced in ten years. A
sizeable portion of the remaining half will be lucky if you don’t despise each
other’s every breath. I say this not to
be a total B [although…]. Think about
it. You can probably count on one hand
the number of married couples who are still married past 10 years -- and let’s
for the sake of argument say, who are on their first marriage -- who don’t
bicker like preschoolers [or completely avoid each other] and absolutely hate each other most of the time. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. I’m saying it’s really fucking rare.
People who’ve settled [read: lots of people] make me really,
really angry. Let’s talk about why. For starters, I can’t handle the faux bliss
they advertise. Things aren’t as good
as you say they are, Couples. I know
this because I’ve been in one. A legit,
5-year one. [Contrary to what you may
believe, I haven’t been single forever.] Things are good for a hot second, the sex is sanguine, the
romance is saccharine, the comfort is sanctuary. So eventually, if you’re not fighting, or at least disputing
[even if it’s not my diva style of always-right all out warfare], you’re
absolutely living this fake life. There
is no way things are always agreeable.
There is no way you don’t ever want to strangle that person. There is no way you love everything about
them. So say it. Scream it.
At least get it out and then have fabulous make-up sex. Works every time. Again. I say this because
I know.
Secondly, Settlers are getting all the benefits of married
life without acknowledging the costs [i.e., that they should be fighting]. Great, someone will share your apartment
rent or invest in a house with you or run half the goddamn errands or remember
to water the plants [first, succeed at plants, then consider having
children]. You’ll always have weekend
plans and a theater date and something other than “and guest” on wedding
invitations and someone to use the Restaurant.com gift certificates with when
it specifies “Must Purchase Two Entrées.”
Neighbors and family members will have stopped trying to fix you up with
totally unacceptable suitors. They’ll
also have stopped assuming something is clinically wrong with you that you are
30 and alone. This makes holiday
gatherings significantly less spotlighting and irritating. I am offended at having to suffer YOUR pity when I'M the one who's done the work to become self-aware and find a deeply compatible life partner and wait patiently until I do which = making good choices! Unlike you, Mostly Superficial and Miserable Relatives! Settlers also have someone who knows their
whole story. Like, inside and out --
spectacular and shitty. Granted, I’m
going to go out on a limb here and assume that most Settlers don’t have a
colorful life history, or at least one they’re open and honest about, either
with themselves, or with Settle Partner.
But really. If you’re living an
honest life, it’s got to be kind of nice knowing that someone knows all your
shit and chooses you for their team anyway.
Next, Settlers piss me off because sometimes, they’ve taken
perfectly viable relationship partners out of the dating pool for the rest of
us who are discriminate. Sometimes the
other person totally sucks. Actually,
most of the time, the other person totally sucks. But occasionally, you find yourself saying, “Damn, so-and-so could actually make the cut, and
would be so much better with ME.” But
no! They’ve settled! I guess you could tell yourself to wait ten
years, then so-and-so will be divorced and back on the market, but get it
together. Have some self-respect. Continue to believe that if you’ve waited, maybe
another person has waited, too, and you won’t have to change sexual
orientations to find him.
People who’ve settled also like to make a point of providing
their cozy, unsolicited advice and make you feel bad about yourself. Sometimes this may be unintentional. Common remarks include: “He’s out there;”
“Everyone finds someone;” “Just be yourself;” and my personal favorite: “It’ll
happen when you’re least expecting it.”
Shut the fuck up. There is no
moment when single, fabulous people are not expecting it. And guess what, you don’t know that “He’s
out there.” What, have you personally
consulted with him and are intentionally withholding him from me? I think not. Because otherwise, you don’t know, so don’t tell me things you
don’t know. Additionally, I am not in
the market for just “finding someone.”
There are “someone’s” all over Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and America. I am in the market for my other half, for
someone fucking smart as hell, cultured, educated, literary, good-hearted,
snarky, snobby, with a little bit of a messy history but has pulled it together, self-aware, and bougie.
[So, Settlers, if you know anyone of this nature, which you obviously don’t,
tell THEM I’m out there, being myself and am least expecting it.]
This rant continues.
I particularly find it highly unacceptable when women settle. Let’s talk about why. Think about the single [defined as never
having been married] women you know.
Now, think about the single women you know who are over, let’s say,
35. Now think about the single, fabulous
women who you know who are over 35. You
might be able to think of -5. This is
because women settle. Just about ALL
women settle. This is inexcusable,
ladies. STOP IT RIGHT NOW. Get your own damn life together and do
whatever it is you need to do to either attract someone worthy of you not
settling, or create yourself to be ultra fantastic enough to not feel the need
to validate your life by relenting to a sham of marriage as a social
institution and expected life choice.
Read, write, learn, go to museums, breathe fresh air, eat whole food, walk, travel, see the whole world [by yourself, and it's okay], dance, volunteer, spend
hours with your godwilling other single fabulous ladyfriends, discuss politics,
beauty, literature, philosophy. Stare at the moon, take off your shoes and feel the grass, take yourself to your favorite restaurants, do cartwheels where you shouldn't when no one's watching. And even when they are. Kiss people -- well. Permit yourself to feel. Make yourself
beautiful, and I don’t just mean hair and clothes [although do that, too,
because to a certain extent, we all look how we feel]. Make yourself grace and light and
heat and energy and passion and art and style.
This is imperative. This is transformative. Once this
happens, settling will NOT be an option.
Trust me. It’s taken
me a long-ass time to get here. I
fought settling for a considerable time.
[“I’m waiting for the right person!
I’ll just know! I’ll just feel
it! Blah blah blah!”] The minute I doubted this and agreed to
settle with someone who truly just didn’t get me, rationalizing that since it
had been five years, might as well make it fifty, it was cracked over my head,
and he was uninvested [read: cheating], and I stumbled into the cheating, and I
should have trusted my intuition. [It’s
cool. He’s since downgraded. Obviously.]
[I really like parenthetical references.] And even though it sucks spending nights alone, it’s incredible
spending them with not the wrong person, and crawling to the very edge of the
bed while you sleep so you don’t have to touch them, or pretending to just be asleep, or standing in
the living room yelling to him for the millionth time that you just can’t
explain it but he doesn’t illuminate your heart with moonbeams and make your
soul say Yes and you wish he did but he doesn’t and you don’t know why. So I say this because I get it. If you need references on the verity of
this, I can provide some. I guarantee
you that in addition to our mutual friends, both his neighbors and mine were
audible witness to much of this chronicle of unraveling. Contrary to my initial despair, the absence of this from my life has been the most liberating thing I could ever describe to you.
So. Friends. Please don’t settle. Please don’t enable Settlers. Ladies, especially you. Come on.
If you’re tempted, call me. I’ll
go out and do shit with you. We’ll be
fancy and fabulous. You can borrow some of my books, and we'll walk around Shaker Heights, and sit next to random fascinating people at bars, and tell each other our life stories [and maybe I'll interview you for my book, get your game face on]. And we’ll be out
there, being ourselves, and least expecting it, and it will be singularly perfect.
[For further reading, consult “Marriage: A History; From Obedience to Intimacy, or How Love
Conquered Marriage" by Stephanie Coontz.]
No comments:
Post a Comment