panic/relief/panic
I have become the 30 something single female cliche. I alternate hourly between utter despair over being alone and complete relief when I consider intricacies of the relationships of those I know well. I am certain that marriage is obsolete and monogamy was a cruel conspiracy of the monarchy (in cahoots with the church) to stop the spread of venereal disease during the Dark Ages (think about it).
Consider the divorce rate. It is at roughly 100%. We live too long and everybody works. There is no need to stay with one person. Especially if they get too fat or insist on placing the ketchup on the shelf instead of the door in the fridge. I mean, for the love of God, people! Bottles are in the door! It's made that way-for that purpose!
Usually when communication breaks down to that point; arguing over condiments, putting the canned goods in alphabetical order, etc, etc. It coincides with boredom. You've let the routine get stale or the initial hormonal buzz is on the wane. All of the things you knew would eventually get on your nerves, are and with the intensity of a jackhammer. At 5:47 a.m. On a Saturday. With a Hangover.
Now I can't even fathom that kind of annoyance coupled with being all legally bound up; financially and otherwise. I have always managed to destroy relationships before they ever got to that point. I have never co-owned anything with another person. I lived with someone briefly and discussed marriage and even started to plan it (Egads!). We had dated for approximately one year when he initiated the marriage discussion. We decided to move in together to give it a trial run and start to save toward financing the shindig. Disastrous. He immediately stopped participating in the relationship. He stopped all of the thoughtful little demonstrations of affection; taking out the garbage, paying for dates, kissing me goodbye, speaking to me...
One morning, after trudging through the Chicago snowdrifts to procure groceries (one of every chore that was relegated to me) I opened the door to our apartment to find him on the couch, watching Cartoon Network(what was my first clue?). I flipped out. I bounced an economy sized bundle (24 rolls) of toilet paper off of his head, while screaming, "I am not your slave! I am not your slave!"
Later that week, at my shrink du jour, I told her of the incident. I realized that our relationship now resembled an overwrought shrewish single mother to a sullen angsty teenage boy. I told her, "I don't want to be in a relationship that requires me to do all of the work."
Until this point, my shrinky dink had displayed all of the warmth and personality of Lillith, the psychiatrist wife of Frasier from Cheers. Upon hearing this, she took off her glasses, scooted to the edge of the seat and leaned into my face. Her eyes actually took on some fire and she asked me, "What if I told you that the woman always does all of the work?"
Consider the divorce rate. It is at roughly 100%. We live too long and everybody works. There is no need to stay with one person. Especially if they get too fat or insist on placing the ketchup on the shelf instead of the door in the fridge. I mean, for the love of God, people! Bottles are in the door! It's made that way-for that purpose!
Usually when communication breaks down to that point; arguing over condiments, putting the canned goods in alphabetical order, etc, etc. It coincides with boredom. You've let the routine get stale or the initial hormonal buzz is on the wane. All of the things you knew would eventually get on your nerves, are and with the intensity of a jackhammer. At 5:47 a.m. On a Saturday. With a Hangover.
Now I can't even fathom that kind of annoyance coupled with being all legally bound up; financially and otherwise. I have always managed to destroy relationships before they ever got to that point. I have never co-owned anything with another person. I lived with someone briefly and discussed marriage and even started to plan it (Egads!). We had dated for approximately one year when he initiated the marriage discussion. We decided to move in together to give it a trial run and start to save toward financing the shindig. Disastrous. He immediately stopped participating in the relationship. He stopped all of the thoughtful little demonstrations of affection; taking out the garbage, paying for dates, kissing me goodbye, speaking to me...
One morning, after trudging through the Chicago snowdrifts to procure groceries (one of every chore that was relegated to me) I opened the door to our apartment to find him on the couch, watching Cartoon Network(what was my first clue?). I flipped out. I bounced an economy sized bundle (24 rolls) of toilet paper off of his head, while screaming, "I am not your slave! I am not your slave!"
Later that week, at my shrink du jour, I told her of the incident. I realized that our relationship now resembled an overwrought shrewish single mother to a sullen angsty teenage boy. I told her, "I don't want to be in a relationship that requires me to do all of the work."
Until this point, my shrinky dink had displayed all of the warmth and personality of Lillith, the psychiatrist wife of Frasier from Cheers. Upon hearing this, she took off her glasses, scooted to the edge of the seat and leaned into my face. Her eyes actually took on some fire and she asked me, "What if I told you that the woman always does all of the work?"
posted by katherine at 10:51 AM
3 Comments:
Hmmm....ravings from Indiana....you should read Prep. I understand some of your relief but also want to disagree about commitments. You cannot really "test" a relationship by living together. If you make a joint commitment together, then you have agreed to work things out. When you just live together, you have agreed to leave when things get inconvenient. There is a responsibility with commitment that means you don't want to just leave...and it is a mutual commitment. Relationships do involve a lot of compromise, so a sense of humor is really important-which you have. You have to see beyond the ketchup bottles and other trivial annoyances, but it can only happen when you feel secure, loved and a mutual commitment to each other. Your blog today makes me sad, but also full of hope because you have so much to offer to someone.
Thanks for stopping by my site as well as the compliments.
Relationships are hard work. I understand some of your aggrivation with the ex-roomie. But in the long run it is better that you did not get married.
That's the biggest thing I learned from the whole thing. I don't think I will ever live with somebody again. I thought we had made a commitment. I think he meant what he said at the time, but changed his mind at some point. It was easier to be terrible until I threw him out, rather than tell me how he really felt.
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