Dear Mom,
It's Mother's Day, and every year I say it's a bunch of commercial crap that the corporatocracy has manipulated from the peace-loving observance it once was into a stomach-churning orgy of flowers, jewelry, and tacky cards. But then people start to talk about their mothers, without all the consumer driven hype, and I always get a little sentimental.
Historically, I've been with you on Mother's Day every year, but I've missed the past two because of moving away to an earthly hell. I'm sad when I see daughters out with their mothers today, knowing that my dipshit brothers, if they didn't forget completely, probably instructed their wives to pick out a card or send flowers, and will then show up at your house tonight wanting dinner. I'm sad because you aren't appreciated the way you should be: as a strong, frightfully intelligent, creative, compassionate human being.
I always try to reason with you, that you're letting people take advantage of you, that you're letting people walk all over you, and that you need to look after yourself more. Because these are things that I refuse to allow for myself. That is the biggest lesson I've learned from you, how not to let those those things happen to me. I know you have some dreams, somewhere in your head, snuggled closely between memories of your children, for a long life's nap. I know you are too bright to have denied yourself dreams altogether, but probably thought that life wouldn't sneak up on you.
You are more than a mother. I wish Dad and the brothers could see that. I wish you could gather the courage to throw off the shackles that they've bound you in when you were too busy caring for them to notice. I wish you would one day decide that you were going to live a life for yourself.
I have a fantasy that one day, you'll call me and tell me that it's time to escape. That you've always known you needed to escape, you just had to find the right time. Then you join up with me and we raise holy hell. Whatever your dreams are (folk art? music? teaching? lounging by a pool drinking wine with a dog?) I would support you and encourage you. It would be scary as hell for you, but I would remind you that life is scary and that is what makes it worthy.
I have visions of who you used to be, before you were a wife and mother. I have a feeling you had a bit of a hell-raising streak, an independence that has since vanished. I hope it reemerges before you are gone, and I hope you can finally understand my fierce independence.
I love you, Mom, but I don't think I'll send this letter to you. I don't think you are ready. One thing I've learned from you is that you have to let people realize what they need on their own. I'm just waiting for you to realize. I love you and respect you more than Dad and the brothers do, because I know you are more than a wife and mother. You are a human being, and you are beautiful. You are my best friend.
I love you.
Quite Contrary
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
13 May 2007
12 April 2007
Singledom, or Single-dumb?
I am a woman who is single. In fact, I'm a woman who has had a divorce, but consider myself more single than divorced because I don't want my past relationships to define me. I'm not sure I want my current relationship status (single) to define me either, but considering the fact that this status affects many aspects of our lives (think taxes, employment, social standing, insurance rates) I'm willing to use it in some cases. I don't mind being single. I don't mind not having a man in my life because I know the work and tedium involved in keeping one happy. (And, dammit, next time I refuse to be responsible for his happiness! *Furiously taking down notes for a future post*)
I mention all of this because there is a cultural construct in our society that favors coupled people over single ones. Or, more accurately, favors heterosexual couples. I have firsthand experience with this, especially since moving to Virginia.
The place I live isn't exactly rural, but it's a tiny town surrounded by rural areas. There's a definite downtown and definite suburbs, maybe even exurbs. While I'm most comfortable in large cities, small towns have benefits, too. But, one thing I've noticed is that this small town isn't friendly at all to uncoupled people. Many of the social activities are geared toward families, children, couples. People seem very isolated from one another, except in their tight-knit and seemingly impenetrable families/cliques. You can imagine how difficult it has been for me living here as an uncoupled woman who knows nobody.
But I've also had some very blatant "single-dumb" experiences. The first was a dinner at a college administrator's house. I received an invitation in the mail, it seemed lovely, so I responded that I would attend. I understood that it would be a very small gathering, about ten people total. I was actually quite excited since this would give me a chance to speak with colleagues I don't interact with very often while probably eating a good meal.
I showed up at the administrator's house, eager for the evening's events, and was struck by what I saw as I entered the door. One of my colleagues was standing in the receiving room with an unfamiliar man. I'd never seen him before, and I wondered if he was a new professor, so I worked my way over to introduce myself. It turned out that he was the husband of my colleague.
Okay, that's odd, bringing your SO to dinner at an administrator's house. "Party foul!" I thought, imagining myself spilling the contents of my wineglass over her head. How unprofessional, right? As we talked, the rest of the guests arrived, each with a spouse. I started to get the hint, so I walked over to the host of the dinner and asked, "I didn't know we could bring a guest, how foolish of me!" I was thinking that I could have invited my (then) current flame, although I would hesitate because he'd probably be bored. "Yes, we have a list of everyone's spouse in our directory, so we invited them as well. But since you aren't married, we only addressed your invitation to you."
This next thing actually happened, I shit you not. The room fell quiet. The only reason my face blushed was because all eyes were on me, burning my skin. (In case you haven't noticed, I don't like attention and prefer anonymity.) Well, that, and the fact that I felt like a complete troll since someone thought it was appropriate to point out that I'm not married, and this is supposedly a bad thing. The colleague mentioned above broke the silence with, "I didn't know you weren't married." Thus began an interesting night.
When we sat down to dinner, I was the odd person out. Everyone was talking about their spouses, so I talked about my (then) current flame as though he were sitting at home feeling left out. I wish I hadn't done that. I wish I had the confidence to relish my independence in front of these people, who were so smug with the fact that they had someone to go home with and argue about the kids' homework/messy house/walking the dog/not being in the mood. Instead, I felt singled out, and bullied. The colleague quietly said to me, in a very passive aggressive way, "I don't think I could come to one of these things alone." Well, I can't imagine bringing a SO to such an event. Why would I bore him with the tedium of academia?
The second instance of "single-dumb" might be better classified as "singlism". Yesterday, I was looking at the website of a semi-local zoo. I clicked on the "Events" link to see if there was anything interesting coming up. There was, so I clicked on "More Information" to see about getting tickets. For me, the tickets would have cost $15. Not much. But for a "couple" they would only cost $25. So, if you happen to be one of the preferred "coupled" folks, you get a $5 discount on the event. I cannot see any reason why it should be cheaper for a couple to attend than for one person alone. I can understand advance tickets being cheaper, or tickets purchased online, simply because of the overhead required to sell tickets at the event. But is it really cheaper to feed a couple than it is to feed one person? Does the couple get a smaller plate? Or maybe they don't get salad or dessert? Somehow, I doubt it.
I know that many charity events sell tickets this way. I think it's repugnant. If I ever organize an event for charity, I will be strongly tempted to make the ticket for the single person cheaper than the ticket for the couple, considering that the single person probably only has one income to work with and has probably payed for being single in the past. (Okay, I admit it, I'd really just like to stick it to all those singlist assholes.)
To top all of this off, homosexual couples are almost invisible in many parts of the US. Do I think that the college would have acknowledged a homosexual couple and invited the SO to dinner at an administrator's house? Hell no. I know many people who love the homosexual folks in thier lives, but just wish they'd "get over it" and settle down with an opposite sex partner. Because, you know, being in a homosexual relationship doesn't count. You can't get married and have kids, and we all know that the planet needs more kids!
It's amazing that more than half of all women in the US are single, but we still treat coupledom as an ideal. Maybe when more than half of the men in the US are single, people will start looking at relationships differently, because THAT would be a crisis. Right? RIGHT?
I mention all of this because there is a cultural construct in our society that favors coupled people over single ones. Or, more accurately, favors heterosexual couples. I have firsthand experience with this, especially since moving to Virginia.
The place I live isn't exactly rural, but it's a tiny town surrounded by rural areas. There's a definite downtown and definite suburbs, maybe even exurbs. While I'm most comfortable in large cities, small towns have benefits, too. But, one thing I've noticed is that this small town isn't friendly at all to uncoupled people. Many of the social activities are geared toward families, children, couples. People seem very isolated from one another, except in their tight-knit and seemingly impenetrable families/cliques. You can imagine how difficult it has been for me living here as an uncoupled woman who knows nobody.
But I've also had some very blatant "single-dumb" experiences. The first was a dinner at a college administrator's house. I received an invitation in the mail, it seemed lovely, so I responded that I would attend. I understood that it would be a very small gathering, about ten people total. I was actually quite excited since this would give me a chance to speak with colleagues I don't interact with very often while probably eating a good meal.
I showed up at the administrator's house, eager for the evening's events, and was struck by what I saw as I entered the door. One of my colleagues was standing in the receiving room with an unfamiliar man. I'd never seen him before, and I wondered if he was a new professor, so I worked my way over to introduce myself. It turned out that he was the husband of my colleague.
Okay, that's odd, bringing your SO to dinner at an administrator's house. "Party foul!" I thought, imagining myself spilling the contents of my wineglass over her head. How unprofessional, right? As we talked, the rest of the guests arrived, each with a spouse. I started to get the hint, so I walked over to the host of the dinner and asked, "I didn't know we could bring a guest, how foolish of me!" I was thinking that I could have invited my (then) current flame, although I would hesitate because he'd probably be bored. "Yes, we have a list of everyone's spouse in our directory, so we invited them as well. But since you aren't married, we only addressed your invitation to you."
This next thing actually happened, I shit you not. The room fell quiet. The only reason my face blushed was because all eyes were on me, burning my skin. (In case you haven't noticed, I don't like attention and prefer anonymity.) Well, that, and the fact that I felt like a complete troll since someone thought it was appropriate to point out that I'm not married, and this is supposedly a bad thing. The colleague mentioned above broke the silence with, "I didn't know you weren't married." Thus began an interesting night.
When we sat down to dinner, I was the odd person out. Everyone was talking about their spouses, so I talked about my (then) current flame as though he were sitting at home feeling left out. I wish I hadn't done that. I wish I had the confidence to relish my independence in front of these people, who were so smug with the fact that they had someone to go home with and argue about the kids' homework/messy house/walking the dog/not being in the mood. Instead, I felt singled out, and bullied. The colleague quietly said to me, in a very passive aggressive way, "I don't think I could come to one of these things alone." Well, I can't imagine bringing a SO to such an event. Why would I bore him with the tedium of academia?
The second instance of "single-dumb" might be better classified as "singlism". Yesterday, I was looking at the website of a semi-local zoo. I clicked on the "Events" link to see if there was anything interesting coming up. There was, so I clicked on "More Information" to see about getting tickets. For me, the tickets would have cost $15. Not much. But for a "couple" they would only cost $25. So, if you happen to be one of the preferred "coupled" folks, you get a $5 discount on the event. I cannot see any reason why it should be cheaper for a couple to attend than for one person alone. I can understand advance tickets being cheaper, or tickets purchased online, simply because of the overhead required to sell tickets at the event. But is it really cheaper to feed a couple than it is to feed one person? Does the couple get a smaller plate? Or maybe they don't get salad or dessert? Somehow, I doubt it.
I know that many charity events sell tickets this way. I think it's repugnant. If I ever organize an event for charity, I will be strongly tempted to make the ticket for the single person cheaper than the ticket for the couple, considering that the single person probably only has one income to work with and has probably payed for being single in the past. (Okay, I admit it, I'd really just like to stick it to all those singlist assholes.)
To top all of this off, homosexual couples are almost invisible in many parts of the US. Do I think that the college would have acknowledged a homosexual couple and invited the SO to dinner at an administrator's house? Hell no. I know many people who love the homosexual folks in thier lives, but just wish they'd "get over it" and settle down with an opposite sex partner. Because, you know, being in a homosexual relationship doesn't count. You can't get married and have kids, and we all know that the planet needs more kids!
It's amazing that more than half of all women in the US are single, but we still treat coupledom as an ideal. Maybe when more than half of the men in the US are single, people will start looking at relationships differently, because THAT would be a crisis. Right? RIGHT?
06 April 2007
Love and marriage, or something
I think the topic of women and love has been studied to death, but I can't help my fascination. I know how some women feel. I met a man when I was in college, when I was 20 years old. He was two years younger than me, and was perfect for a scared little virgin like me. (To be frank, I dated a lot in college, and was known to be a partier, but was very aware of my sexuality and knew I wasn't ready to have sex, so I didn't.)
We totally fell in love, and after six months we slept together. And it was perfect. We stayed together for the next three years until I (finally) graduated, and then broke up. I was devastated.
I spent almost a year nursing a broken heart while pouring myself into grad school. I didn't date. I had zero confidence. And then my mother reminded me of something.
When I was a little girl, I never daydreamed about my wedding day or scribbled a make-believe married name in my notebook. My mother reminded me that my daydreams were about being independent, about having my own place and career. About living an exciting life where I was in charge. Remembering that really changed my outlook, and I realized that I could still have those things. The future, in my mind, was not tied up in a man.
Now, when I start feeling lonely, I stir up some of those girlhood fantasies (some involved an artist's life in London, others involved a dancer's life in New York) and take comfort. Do I ever feel lonely? YES! Do I ever suffer from a broken heart? Of course. In fact, just recently, I ended a several months long relationship with someone, and it hurt like hell and I really miss him.
The difference this time is that my pride and confidence didn't take a beating. I know I'll keep going through my life, and I'm making some major changes in my life soon which I might not have done if romance had clouded my vision. People ask me how I handled my divorce so well, and I tell them that I didn't define myself by my marriage or my husband, so I wasn't losing a part of my identity.
This past weekend, at my cousin's wedding, a female cousin (actually, the groom's sister) kept saying that she wanted to get married so badly. I finally asked her if she had someone in mind, a boyfriend, and she said she didn't. My heart just sank. I don't want her to wait for something that may never happen. Too many women put such value in marriage that they often don't care who they marry, just so he wants to get married, too.
And we wonder why marriages fall apart. I firmly believe that marriage changes the dynamics of a relationship. Ex and I lived together for a long time before we married, and we were perfectly happy just cohabiting. As soon as we were married, things changed, because we knew that we had submitted to an outdated institution that really wasn't right for us. I married him because that was what we were "supposed" to do if we moved away. And then all that indoctrination came flooding in. I forgot my dreams and ate up all the bullshit the media and society feeds us about blissful married life. What a crock. Weddings are only fun if you are not a participant.
Yes, it's possible that I'll get married again someday. But he'll have to be out-fucking-standing, and he'll have to be willing to sign a prenuptial agreement. I can dream, can't I?
We totally fell in love, and after six months we slept together. And it was perfect. We stayed together for the next three years until I (finally) graduated, and then broke up. I was devastated.
I spent almost a year nursing a broken heart while pouring myself into grad school. I didn't date. I had zero confidence. And then my mother reminded me of something.
When I was a little girl, I never daydreamed about my wedding day or scribbled a make-believe married name in my notebook. My mother reminded me that my daydreams were about being independent, about having my own place and career. About living an exciting life where I was in charge. Remembering that really changed my outlook, and I realized that I could still have those things. The future, in my mind, was not tied up in a man.
Now, when I start feeling lonely, I stir up some of those girlhood fantasies (some involved an artist's life in London, others involved a dancer's life in New York) and take comfort. Do I ever feel lonely? YES! Do I ever suffer from a broken heart? Of course. In fact, just recently, I ended a several months long relationship with someone, and it hurt like hell and I really miss him.
The difference this time is that my pride and confidence didn't take a beating. I know I'll keep going through my life, and I'm making some major changes in my life soon which I might not have done if romance had clouded my vision. People ask me how I handled my divorce so well, and I tell them that I didn't define myself by my marriage or my husband, so I wasn't losing a part of my identity.
This past weekend, at my cousin's wedding, a female cousin (actually, the groom's sister) kept saying that she wanted to get married so badly. I finally asked her if she had someone in mind, a boyfriend, and she said she didn't. My heart just sank. I don't want her to wait for something that may never happen. Too many women put such value in marriage that they often don't care who they marry, just so he wants to get married, too.
And we wonder why marriages fall apart. I firmly believe that marriage changes the dynamics of a relationship. Ex and I lived together for a long time before we married, and we were perfectly happy just cohabiting. As soon as we were married, things changed, because we knew that we had submitted to an outdated institution that really wasn't right for us. I married him because that was what we were "supposed" to do if we moved away. And then all that indoctrination came flooding in. I forgot my dreams and ate up all the bullshit the media and society feeds us about blissful married life. What a crock. Weddings are only fun if you are not a participant.
Yes, it's possible that I'll get married again someday. But he'll have to be out-fucking-standing, and he'll have to be willing to sign a prenuptial agreement. I can dream, can't I?
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