Then in the middle of my beloved Metro section out comes the question: "So, um, are we going to get married?"
It wasn't really a proposal, but my mind turned upside down, and I stared only at the now non-sensical paragraph in front of me. I wasn't really surprised at the question. We had been together since July 1992. We had moved in together. We had joint bank accounts. We adopted a couple cats. We had furniture. But it was the whole word -- "marriage." It was tied to words like "wife" and "husband" and "anniversary." All words that I hate because of the the cultural assumptions that are tied to them that I believe are sexist, dangerous and just plain ugly.
My response, which was, I'm sure, not the one MacTroll had wanted was, "Can't we just be together without all that - mess?"
Silence.
"I guess I just always pictured myself married," he said quietly.
"Can I think about it?" I asked.
"Sure."
So I did. I thought and I thought and I shook my head with distaste. Marriage was about law and religion and all this other stuff that didn't really apply to us.
A couple weeks later it got brought up again. I said I needed more time.
"How much more time?"
"I want to live with you for at least another year before I give you an answer."
In January 2000, I decided that if we got married we could do it our way. None of this white dress, staring at the bride down the aisle stuff. No uncomfortable wedding showers or people in suits and ties. If we were going to get married it was going to be a big party -- and most of all, it was going to be a ceremony that celebrated the 8 years we were together before we got married. Because, damn it, you put 8 years in with someone, they count.
Sure, there will still be those people who only believe your relationship is validated once you sign that damn certificate, but they just don't get it -- the big picture of what is important.
Life is about connections and regardless of what you signed or pledged before whatever power that be you believe in -- you've met someone you want to spend part of your life with. Someone you can be vulnerable with and someone you can depend on (and vice versa). That doesn't happen every day. So when you find it, you need to hold onto it and work on it as hard and as long as you can. Because there are no guarantees -- and in case anyone hasn't noticed the idea of "forever" has gotten a lot shorter lately and with good reason.
People are forming relationships more out of mutual interest in one another (and much later in life) rather than because it's a societal institution and a check mark on a list called "A successful life."
In April 2000, I went to the Feminist Expo 2000 with my friend Heidi. We had to take an afternoon off of work to go. We drove up to Baltimore and saw Tyne Daly and Sharon Gless give their speeches. Then we broke up into small sessions. Would it be Mary Daly or bell hooks. Damn, that was a hard decision.
bell hooks was talking about love and damn it, I was a 21st century, 20-something with a big question on her hands...
So I stood up and asked how in the world can a feminist who is uncomfortable with how society treats and talks about marriage and assigns roles based on gender could I possibly ever feel comfortable with the reality, when the basic relationship vocabulary made me seriously uncomfortable.
She gave me an honest answer about negotiables and non-negotiables. Getting married to me was negotiable. Sharing a last name was a non-negotiable. Having a lot of people was a non-negotiable. Having traditional vows that made people promise a lot of stuff that they might want to do, but in reality probably wouldn't, was non-negotiable.
On the drive back to D.C. I talked with Heidi and made my list. Not surprising most of the stuff that was non-negotiable Joel didn't give a crap about either. :-) That always makes things easier--when you agree on the big picture stuff.
So, when I drove down Prospect Avenue today after making my $70 purchases from Target, my eyebrows furrowed when I read a billboard that said, "Married people make more money. Marriage Works" with large images of coins on a table. I gagged and turned up my Liz Phair.
In all of my stressing out about what I wanted our marriage to be about, it didn't even occur to me to think of capitalism as a point to get married. I mean, holy shit.
How is a relationship based on promises of greater financial success possibly a good advertisement for one of the most challenging and dynamic relationships that you'll ever have.
In my opinion, that stupid billboard is what is wrong with America's views of relationships. It represents exactly why so many marriages end up in divorce, which is not a sign of failure between the two people, but instead a sign of failure of our culture which promotes a completely materialistic view of "success" and an unrealistic approach to love. Love should be appreciated for all of its grandness and its pretty serious shortcomings.
(Someone remind me again what is so desperately wrong with being single? It's not like a plague. Seriously. Be happy single. Be happy in a committed relationship. Be happy however you live your life.)
And while I'm all worked up, remind me again, how not allowing people who are of the same gender to get married isn't discrimination? I've always been a little fuzzy on good and bad things and I tend to be "non-trad" according to my friends about things like this. But I'm still confused. If Ellen wants to marry Portia, why the hell does it matter to the rest of us? Can't we just say, "Rock on and good luck!" Like we do when any other couple that we purchased a $99 ricemaker for takes that plunge?
That sign really pissed me off.
