^^^^Listen to this while you read^^^^
I’ve spent my entire life around creative, resource wonderful women with deep hearts and tremendous sisterhood circles…and a seeming acceptance of lives sans romantic connection. Here’s the thing, some were married and some weren’t. The married ones spent their time either fussing about their husbands and grinning and bearing a whole lot of stuff while the single ones were keeping company with somebody as I have a lot of cousins. The weirdest thing about these women, they behaved as if they were unphased by it (Mind you, I was a kid; thus, I’m sure some things were either hidden from me or beyond me). Frankly, I feel like I’m going down that same road, making my way through life without the kind of romantic connection that I want, and I don’t like it. So, for a minute, I want to lift the mask and look at it.
I want to cater to my softer, more feminine side (all this really means is painting my toe nails and flirting more). Seriously, I love the feeling of being in love. I enjoy planning romantic interludes. Besides, that’s an easier space to be in. It’s carefree. It’s light. It’s fun. It’s sensual. It’s titillating. And it gets overshadowed by fear. Nevertheless, I miss it. Gladys Knight once said she could live the rest of her life without sex, but that she couldn’t live without romance. I don’t know about the first part of that statement (I’d be one disappointed chick), but I do miss romance. I miss who I turn into when under its spell.
But here’s my challenge: I don’t think I want to be married, and I believe in divorce. However, I’m hesitant to tell a man that I don’t want to be married because I think that’ll land me in the category of “women you do things with who you think aren’t marriage material”. It’s one thing to choose not exercise an option and quite another to be deemed ineligible. On the other hand, I feel ashamed about it when I’m among other women because marriage is the goddamn goal. When I’m among certain friends and dare utter my thoughts, they often turn into old Baptist Church men and are clearly at a loss for engagement that isn’t based on, “What is wrong with you?” Yes, they frame the question as delicately as they can, but the flawed me angle is still there.
Perhaps I ought to silently pursue the “situation” that suits me. I do know people who are unmarried and in long-term monogamous relationships (not necessarily cohabitating). Curiously, they seem to be mute about their relationships. Yes, you could say that they don’t want everybody in their business; but, I wonder if there is shame attached to being single and over 39. If so, at what point is that shaming, both external and internal, over? Or do those unmarried, but loved and loving people just avoid the circumstances that make them feel judged, including those that shine a light on the tender spots where they judge themselves? Frankly, I believe a lot of different choices would be made if people weren’t so worried about the opinions of others. Personally, I am afraid of the elders in my family and offending the church culture I grew up in ALTHOUGH it doesn’t seem to be working in an ideal fashion for most of the folks I see subscribing to it (I think I’m more afraid of the people than God).
I resist marriage because I am happily stuck in my ways and lack the ability to believe in the fairytale. I see the imposition of duty. I believe the work of a relationship should be a choice made over and over again everyday instead of somebody just paying bills while the other person serves up duty-booty. I think this is the same taking-for-granted that occurs in families: somebody always assumes that something is owed to them because of their connection. Thus, they make selfish choices just because they think they can. In my mind, this is divorce-worthy because it’s like persistent water wearing down a rock over time. Moreover, it terrifies me. I can’t even think of a way to string together enough profanities to show just how much that is not my idea of “till death do us part”!
On top of my reservations about the obligatory situation that marriage seems to disintegrate into, the idea that my selection process and criteria could be flawed and leave me with a man who isn’t good for me, a man I don’t complement, or can’t grow with is significant. The divorce rate doesn’t hover around 50% for no reason, and I know more than one widow who says she isn’t doing it again. Frankly, a man who doesn’t live at all like I do, who hasn’t made choices similar to those I’ve made, or who doesn’t seem to be moving in a similar direction as I am is scary. Sure, we consume cute clichés like, “opposites attract”; however, I believe it takes commonalities, a lot of them, to stay together. The problem is that there seems to be nobody like me, not even close.
#SiftedLesson: I need to decide on what I value in romantic connection and ask myself whether I am choosing or copping out if I engage and accept something besides what Aunt Hattie and Uncle John had.
Okay, putting mask back on now.
Blush and Brushes LLC 