What’s a girl in a happy relationship want without marriage, anyway?

Today's post is, again, a guest blog from a friend. After reading Jenny's post, Melt wanted a chance to put forth some representation from the non-marrying side of things. Melt is living in the middle of cornfields, raising two adorable kittens, getting her PhD and trying to figure out how to get people to use condoms and not spread STDs. She kickboxes and does yoga, is learning to cook, and always has something to fun--and intelligent-- to say.

It’s always interesting to me when I read well-thought-through defenses of young marriage. I genuinely loved and enjoyed reading Jenny’s recent guest post on this blog. I thought it made sense, I thought it was eloquent and heartwarming, and I wish her all the happiness in the world.

But I must admit, part of why I appreciate reading well-reasoned defenses of young marriage is because I am so frequently enraged by the all-too-ubiquitous insulting and offensive defenses. As a 21-year old woman who has been dating her 24-year old (25 in 1 month!) boyfriend for two and a half years, our commitment has been questioned time and time again. “If you’re really meant to be together, wouldn’t you know by now? And if you know you want to be together forever…what’s the point in putting off marriage? Don’t you think that your hesitation about marriage should tell you something about how you really feel about your relationship?” “Don’t you think you’re being a bit selfish moving across the country and leaving your boyfriend just because you feel like staying in school?” “I mean, we all have different priorities…I guess you’re just putting yourself before your relationship, and I mean, that’s OKAYYYY, it’s just, you know, I guess I’ve just already reached a point of maturity where I can’t be that selfish anymore.” Well, you know what? I agree with Jenny: Maybe go fuck yourself.

The fact of the matter is that marriage simply doesn’t make sense for my relationship right now. I’m in my first year of graduate school, trying to live on my $16,000/year stipend without taking out any loans (and so far I’m succeeding, miraculously!) My graduate program has me living in central Illinois for the next 5-6 years. It’s a horrible economy, with people all over the country unable to find jobs, and my boyfriend was offered a full-time job in North Carolina. I’m finally learning how to live on my own – to cook for myself, clean for myself, make Excel spreadsheets to do my own budgeting, and then make the appropriate budgetary sacrifices to make ends meet and pay my own rent, utilities, cable bills, grocery bills, and other miscellaneous expenses each month. I’m trying to become financially independent. I’m trying to make it on my own. I’m trying to prove to myself that I can take care of my own life. I’m trying to make sure that no matter what happens in our relationship, in my future, I know I can make it on my own and be self-reliant. This simply isn’t the time in my life when I want to be living my life for another person. I need to be selfish. I need to strike out on my own and build my own life before I can feel comfortable enough to share it with another person.

And then there are the other things. I don’t feel comfortable being the one responsible for making major health decisions should any “worst case scenarios” happen. If I end up a vegetable tomorrow (morbid, but something to consider), I’d still want my parents to be the one making the major decisions, not my boyfriend. And vice versa – I’d want his parents to be the one making the decisions for him. Two and a half years is plenty of time for some people, but it simply isn’t for us – and that’s OK. Someone told me a few months ago that once a couple is out of college, if they don’t get engaged after two years something is wrong and they’re wasting their time. Whaaaaaat? Since when is there an objective timeline on major life decisions? I don’t see anyone going around saying, “Once you’re out of college, if you don’t get a pet within a year, you’re cold and unnurturing” or “You have exactly 6 months after you graduate from college to move out of your parents’ home, or else you’re not independent and you’re a failure.” No one would tolerate that. Why do they tolerate objective standards when it comes to marriage?

For me, I will consider it the “right time” for us to get married when I know I don’t need it – when I know that I don’t need his financial support, I don’t need his amazing cooking abilities, I don’t need him managing the finances, I don’t need him to make me feel whole. Maybe this makes me utterly unromantic, but I don’t ever want to feel like I need my spouse to complete me. I want us to get married when I know the only reason I want him in my life is that – pure, unadulterated want. Not need, want. That hasn’t happened yet. I caught myself at one point desperately wanting him to move out here mostly so my rent could halve, because my finances were really tight. I decided to get a roommate instead. I wanted something to cuddle at night; I got two cats. I freaked out when I first moved out here because I didn’t know how to cook and I didn’t know what I’d do without him cooking me dinner every night; I bought every cookbook I could find with the words “Quick,” “Easy,” or “Weeknight” in the title. I’m slowly but surely working my way towards not needing him – and when I reach that point, that’s when I’ll feel comfortable marrying him.

Maybe intelligent, considerate people like Jenny don’t understand why I’m upset. But I’m not upset because people like Jenny love their partners and want to get married before I do. To that I say – Mazel Tov and L’Chaim! I’m upset because of comments like this, which I saw on someone’s Tumblr: "I got married when I was 22 too. I’m 24 now, own several businesses and let me just say that there are people my age that are still trying to figure out how to not show up to work drunk and/or hungover. I think that you and I are in the very small percentage of people under 25 that decided to skip the whole drama + blowing all your money on drinking and parties thing."

Really? Condescension much? Yes, I drink and I get hangovers – so do plenty of married people. And yes, I did admit that I don’t think I’m ready to get married. But when did we decide to equate “marriage readiness” with “overall maturity”? I’m living on my own, working towards financial independence, living on a $16,000/year budget, tracking my expenses, working my ASS off to further my postgraduate education, and caring for two cats. I know married people who lie to their spouses, can’t manage their finances, bury themselves in debt, and have no idea how to care for themselves because they went from being completely dependent on their parents to being completely dependent on their spouses. But no, you’re right, condescending married people – you have a marriage license, which TOTALLY makes you more mature and adult than me, because I’m unmarried and still in school. My mistake.

What it comes down to is that I agree with Jenny’s point of view, and I support her, and I understand her pain. And like I said earlier, I wish her all the luck in the world. This entry is not about her. But I simply wish to show the other side, and maybe explain to her that part of the anger against her might be due (at least in part) to the many other young married people who are not doing her cause any favors.

What’s a Modern Girl Want with Marriage, Anyway?

Today's entry is a bit unusual-- I didn't write it. Instead, this is courtesy of my friend Jenny, one of my favorite people in the world. Jenny is 25, and spends her days working on her PhD while trying to solve the mysteries of prostate cancer. She has a golden retriever named after Bruce Wayne, she's one of the most well-read people I know, she has an amazing assortment of heels, she's a kick-ass rock-climber, she makes delicious cupcakes, and she's a huge nerd.

She also just bought her wedding dress.

Like everything else in life, it turns out lots of people have opinions they feel the need to share with you, if you’re a 25 year old woman getting married. Are you knocked up, they say. Why not just live together, they say. Isn’t it selfish of you to get married when not everyone can?

It takes all the (limited) patience I have not to hit them with my favorite quote from The Departed: Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go fuck yourself. But to be a little more civil, I’ve broken it down with my friend Amanda, who’s kindly let me work out my mental twists and turns in this guest post.

1) Why get married? Because I want to. In an ideal world, this would be the only reason that mattered. I’ve dated my fiancé for a little over a year, and we’re both ready to get married. For various personal reasons, we don’t want to live together before we’re married, so we’re looking forward to not only starting our lives together but also sharing a home with our dog for the first time. I think it’s safe to say that not being married has complicated our lives far more than being married will. I am certain that I will be staying with my fiancé for the rest of our lives. And no, I do not want to wait five years, or ten years, or thirty-five years, or however long it will take until some anonymous commenter on the lives of others feels we’re
“ready.” We’re ready now. We’ve talked about it thoroughly, and we’re clear on what marriage will and will not be changing about our relationship. We’ll live in the same place. I’ll be changing my name (and no, I will not be taking opinions on that topic). Aside from that: not much. A friend recently told me that her mother’s philosophy is that if you’re not married before the wedding, you won’t be married after it. The actual ceremony and certificate won’t be changing things for us. I’m not insecure or trying to prove anything. I just want our relationship to be as official as it can be, for my own emotional reasons. In other words: Why would we NOT get married? There’s nothing holding us back. I’m in graduate school, but I don’t need to be single in order to finish. I’m 25, he’s 24. We’ve both dated plenty of people and had enough experience to know when the right person came along. Additionally, I don’t find much credibility in the theory that “it’s much more meaningful to not get married, because then every day you spend together is a choice.” Every day you spend with someone, in or out of marriage, is a choice. Disentangling yourself from any long term relationship, married or not, is going to be difficult. I, personally, find it much more meaningful to get married. Why? I’ve never married anyone before. It’s the most special thing I can think of to demonstrate how important my fiancé is to me.

2) Why get married? Because it will simplify things for my fiancé and I. I mentioned this before, but not sharing a house while we share a dog is a giant pain in the butt. More than that, having the rights that come easily with marriage but are so hard to get otherwise will be a big bonus. I don’t have to worry about not being able to see him in the hospital. He won’t have to fight my dad for our dog if I die suddenly. (My dad really loves our dog.) When we buy a house together, our loan process will be more streamlined than if we were just living together. In the event of one of our sudden illnesses, end of life decisions and similar medical consultations will take place by default with the other person. Although you can certainly file paperwork empowering your partner to make these decisions, hospitals may choose to recognize these or not. In the event of one of our deaths, our estate will revert to the other one, not to our parents. If one of us chooses to stay at home with the children, and the supporting spouse dies, the widow/er has the option to bring a wrongful death suit and get money to represent the lost earnings.

3) Why get married? Because it will make things easier for our future family. This is a short point, but a good one—our children will be default have both our names on their birth certificates. We’ll both be empowered to pick them up from school, sign off on things, etc., and while that’s not something that’s limited to married parents, it will make dealing with school administrators easier. Again, in the event of one of our deaths, custody of the children will revert to the surviving spouse, not our families.

4) Why get married? Because I believe that everyone should have the option. Not getting married as a stance on gay rights only really works if you’re a high-profile celebrity. Otherwise, you’re protesting others’ lack of civil rights, but not exercising your own. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. It’s like saying all people should have the right to vote, but then not voting yourself. It’s my firm opinion, having been raised in the Bible Belt, that marriage will never be changed from the outside. It will take the dedicated work of married, straight supporters of gay rights to start to change the mainstream attitude about marriage. I also know that the kind of people who believe in the defense of marriage see not getting married as a cop out. By getting married, I am strengthening my own voice in this debate, making it carry more weight where it counts.

Plus, I love my fiancé and I can’t wait to get married to him.

The Handmaid's Tale: The Fragility of Equality

This is a guest post by JD, my fiance.  He graduated law school in May, and like me, is currently looking for work.  He has previously written a published legal article, and is a part author of a chapter of one of the authoritative texts on federal civil procedure. .  He is one of the most insightful and wonderful people I know.

I picked up a new novel last night with the idea of reading for an hour or so before bed. At around 4am, I finally put down The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood after absorbing its startling epilogue. Atwood spins her dystopian fiction as a disjointed narrative that approaches stream of consciousness, a style that seems to mirror the mind of the novel’s protagonist. Attempting to summarize the plot would not do the book justice, but suffice to say I couldn’t put it down and it gripped me with an odd emotion I don’t normally get when reading: fear.

Fear isn’t actually a response I encounter often when reading dystopian literature. Classics such as 1984 I took in as warnings, with the knowledge that their goal was to teach us to be on our guard, to teach us that being aware of the possibility of such a future was a step in combating it. But 1984 didn’t leave me with a feeling of immediacy, a feeling that such a future could easily come to pass. Though it dealt with sex somewhat, and was partly about the freedom to love, 1984 did not have as its focus a theocratic dystopia based around the subjugation of women. Such a world is the focus of The Handmaids Tale.

Why does that particular structure frighten me more than the dystopia imagined by other authors? Why should I be any more disturbed by that than by Orwell’s emotionally repressed world? The answer is that it hits too close to home. At one point in the novel, the protagonist asks her “Commander”—one of the male leaders of the new theocracy—the all important question: why? His answer is multi-faceted, but mainly is concerned with giving men something to live for again. The rise of feminism and the status of women as equals removed men from their role as protectors, usurped their former place in the world. Rather than combat that emptiness with a new goal, they sought to return to the former status quo. There is no adaptation here, but rather true conservatism on the part of the men; a refusal to adapt to changes in the world and in society. Part of the “Commander’s” defense is that they were merely returning to the way it always had been, that feminism was the anomaly and merely a blink in the course of history.

Those words fill me with fear because in a way they are true. The equality of women is a recent accomplishment, and in a non-legal sense there are still many battles to be fought. The 19^th amendment, granting women’s suffrage in the U.S., was not ratified until 1920—less than 100 years ago. What women have fought so hard for is truly a recent attainment, and parallels the civil rights movement in that regard. The Handmaid’s Tale is frightening because it contemplates a step back and an unraveling of all that has been achieved and that has helped make women more than brood mares and domestic slaves.

               

Even more frightening is that there are those out there who still argue that women belong in a situation like that portrayed in The Handmaids Tale: they are lesser, they exist only for breeding, they shouldn’t be educated. The source of those views is irrelevant, they could be biblically justified, as those in The Handmaid’s Tale were, or they could be the result of individual hatred and stem from individuals who went through bad divorces or have grown to hate all women because of some unfortunate personal experience. Regardless of their origin, people who would embrace the world of The Handmaid’s Tale exist.  They exist, and they must be fought. The battle is not over, and The Handmaid’s Tale shows us a world that might be if those who still believe that women should not have the same rights as men succeed.  In that way it is more than a parable and is to some extent, a call to arms. We cannot take for granted the equality of the sexes; we must remember the struggle it took to get here, and we must continue that struggle against everyone who would try to take that equality away. Regardless of who uttered these words originally, they remain true: the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.