“There’s no such thing as certainty.”
“Take it one day at a time.”
“People grow and change.”
“Forever is for Twinkies and the winter of 2010-2011.”
“There are no guarantees in life.”
I’ve come to believe that forever is as long as things are convenient, or until something better comes along.
__________
Last night, somewhere in the middle of a living room piled with sleeping bags, blankets, bowls of popcorn, ginger snap cookies and boisterous kids, I tinkered around on Pinterest. I like to do this stream-of-consciousness thing where I see what pops into my head, Google for images of that thing, and find what I like.
Last night I Googled “Vintage Cocktail Dress,” found this, and added a comment that read, “I was born in the wrong era.”
Apparently I’m not the only one. A lot of folks seem to think they were born in the wrong era.
My feelings of being misplaced in this generation have less to do with gorgeous cocktail dresses and faux pearl cuffs, than they do with the mindset of those times. Granted, I probably have a romanticized view of that mindset, but another Pinterest pin from last night proves my point.
Back in the era of classy cocktail dresses, couples tried harder. They were in for the long haul. Marriage stood for something, even in the case of lousy marriages, like those of my grandparents.
I’m the first to say, “If it’s killing you, get out,” but where is the integrity that comes from saying, “This is who I plan to spend my life with. This person is worthy of me. I am worthy of him. We are going to sweat, and laugh, and cry and make this work. We are not keeping the back door open in case someone better steps in and catches our eye. We are blind to sexier, funnier, more interesting or better in the kitchen. In fact, we are going to work on being all those things for each other.”
I’m not just speaking of romantic relationships.
This lack of commitment applies to friendships, business deals, raising kids, our own exercise routines and everything that we profess to not be able to live without, buy on the spur of the moment, and then discard only four months later, when the latest, greatest version hits the market.
___________
I know that feeling of certainty and security that comes with commitment. I felt it with Mark.
Stop laughing.
But I do remember thinking, “So this is how those folks feel. They are done looking.” The noise of indecision is silenced. Breathing becomes less frantic.
It’s the same way I feel when I put on my favorite charcoal gray sweater – warmth, ease, comfort.
Plans can be made.
The moving boxes can be pitched.
Perennials can be planted.
It’s time to buy the rubber stamp with the permanent address.
When I got to the point of deciding Mark was the one, it felt as if I had stepped from a swaying railroad bridge where I had to watch the placement of each step and keep looking over my shoulder, to terra firma, where I could stroll with deep breaths, arms swinging and eyes on the horizon.
That was short-lived.
When Will was six weeks old I learned that I was the only one playing for keeps. Mark announced that this – having a new baby, not having sex as frequently as he wanted, not being the center of my universe – wasn’t what he had signed up for.
In that conversation at 12:30 a.m., sitting on the couch I thought I’d grow old on, nursing my baby boy, I felt the precariousness of stepping from solid ground to shifting sands.
Playing for keeps only works when both parties play by the same rules.
__________
I’ve been driving the same car for eleven years.
I have some of the same furniture that I had in college.
Stop laughing.
It’s not ugly furniture, it’s functional and timeless.
I have Levis I’ve worn for 20 years.
I keep pets for as long as they’ll have me.
I still use the dishes I bought in 1982.
I don’t play until something better comes along.
I play for keeps.
I often wonder with my altered belief of forever….is it cynicism or a harsh reality? an updated version? Or is it protection? It certainly is self-serving as I cautiously step into the rest of my life. I can’t remember any other time that I analyzed every step so thoroughly that it is almost fail proof. Even if it were to fail, I would be ready, knowing that even forever is temporary.
Zaira,
I can’t get beyond the sadness of routinely expecting things to fail.
Narcissism has a way of depleting us of confidence, faith and belief in happy endings. Wait, maybe that’s just life. I dunno.
I think it’s just life after being married to life-sucking leeches. As little girls we believed in happily ever after! As grown women we wonder if happy endings are possible or if we will just end up with a broken heart. We question every single aspect of any type of relationship, which makes it hard to commit to anyone.
We pretended for so long that everything was fine. Now it could be fine or really good. But wait there’s that little voice that keeps saying are you sure.
Kath,
My little voice is confused by deciding if things are red flags or just doubts creeping in.
Believe me, I know….I have already grieved the end of my current relationship! We were watching Time Traveler’s Wife, by the end, I was bawling because someday I was going to have to let him go. (poor thing was so confused!). I didn’t know how or when, just that it would happen. As he was comforting me, holding me tight, and not saying a word, I knew it wasn’t going to be anytime soon. I still say, when it ends, I knew it would. Maybe that is sad, but perhaps it is also a little courageous, living with my eyes open, and expecting life to be what it is without surprises. I really had to LET myself be sad for a while and every so often, but it seems, for now, today, and maybe tomorrow, it is good.
Zaira,
How come? How come you don’t believe that the two of you could make it into a lasting thing?
None of my business, I know, but my heart had to ask.
I don’t mind you asking. The Baggage….it plagues me. I won’t lie and say I don’t have it. I took my vows seriously, but after they were dismissed, trampled on, ridiculed, insulted, disrespected, I have a hard time believing that marriage means anything at all. There is a fear inside that won’t allow me to depend on someone else too much. It is just as you said earlier here. It depletes us of faith, confidence, and belief in happy endings. Some are lucky and never feel like that, there are many that stay in their relationships miserable, but this is my life. The good news is: I am learning to love again in spite of me.
As for my current relationship, we have always been very open about our wants in life. When we were dating a few months, I started thinking about how I could give him what he wanted in life even though it is not what I wanted. You can imagine the fear and panic that started to emerge! The words that came out were ‘sacrificing myself’. We realized then, that even though we are best friends, support and love each other, there are limitations in our relationship. In fact, it may have taught us more about who we are and forced us to accept ourselves. During the movie, it was a combination of things. Part of it was that I knew I wasn’t the one to fulfill all his dreams, but surprisingly, much of it was that I might lose him to death. Either way, I was going to lose him someday. It was not going to be forever.
To my amazement, our relationship continues to deepen and I don’t feel the impending doom like I did then. Without the honesty, sincerity, and consistency, I would never have been able to face my fears and trust again. Even if it ends tomorrow, I know my relationship ended (not my life), my belief in love has been restored, I can rise from the depths on my own, and I can look forward to my happy ending.
Jesse, if you THINK you see red flags, trust your gut. We’ve had this conversation before: your gut has never failed you yet. Failed relationships are sad – but better to recognize that now than later. TBTP (totally beside the point), I’m watching two African boys hit a golf ball around like a croquet ball. There’s a never ending source of kid entertainment on this farm.
Zaira,
Oh… the sadness of this comment. I couldn’t publish it right away. I still don’t know what to say.
I do know that only three weeks ago, I said the same words in reference to my current situation – “sacrificing myself.” I can’t seem to figure out how to relate without sacrificing myself.
Maybe it isn’t so much sadness as realness.
It’s growing up and facing truth. More and more, I am learning that happily ever after is by my design – with or without another.
Pat,
I’m trying to sort the red flags from the self-doubts. My gut seems to turn everything into a red flag.
I am sorry if that made you sad. That wasn’t my intention. I am not sad! In fact, I am happy. I know I have to make my way with my own rules. They can bend, change, break when I say they do, but I have to gauge that with my gut.
Relationships are a sacrifice. The tricky part is finding someone who is willing to sacrifice equally. But to say or think I am sacrificing myself is my gut telling me whatever that is is crossing my line. It is making me uncomfortable to make that decision, or giving too much of myself, making me insecure.
Funny thing, after I read your comment, I was a little sad. Then, I read an email my friend sent and she was referring to my relationship. She asked me to keep my mind open to the possibilities that God may have in store for me. She is right. But how do I know when, if, how it is right? My gut.
Zaira,
You are so right – and wise.
I wonder if it feels less like a sacrifice if there is something coming back from the other side? I don’t know what that is like.
My aunt keeps telling me to trust my gut. I know I always feel better when I do.
Do you sacrifice for your kids? Is there something coming back from them? If you get something back from them (and I believe you do), does it make the sacrifice worthwhile? Have you ever felt that same reciprocity from Kevlar Man?
Pat,
Of course, I can answer affirmatively when it comes to my kids. Every sacrifice is worth it. I believe that’s how it should be with parents and kids.
From them, I really expect nothing, and get far more than I ever imagined.
As far as Kevlar Man, I really don’t know how to answer.