OMG. Where do I even begin? Thank god my relationship is way more honest, thank god we never had a wedding, thank god my husband inspires me to follow my heart…thank god I still have a life.
Thank god I am not this girl, even though I have had moments of being this girl, and I completely blame society, family, and media for this, because we are never taught to just enjoy relationships for what they are, which could be a hot two-month affair, or a baby-daddy arrangement, or twenty years of friendship. We’re only taught how to evaluate whether they’re ripe for marriage or not, and if not, to move on, because god help us if we get stuck in a relationship without the potential of reaching that one goal we should all be aiming for, because it’s the only achievement that is ever going to make us really…happy.
Bullshit. Let me tell you something as a woman that’s been married for going on six years, there’s no magical happy world that you suddenly step into when you get married. It’s just fucking life, and life goes on, and I say this as someone who’s married to an amazing man that loves and supports me like no other. And yes, there are moments of bliss and passion and beauty, but you still have to deal with the same shit you were dealing with before, whether it’s trying figure out what you’re going to do with your life, or why you can’t seem to nab that dream career, or keep those ten pounds off, or clear up your skin. And you still want alone time, and miss the attention you used to get when you were whoring around, and find yourself locking the bathroom door so you can masturbate, or devising a serious plan to stalk Bradley Cooper.
I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with getting married, or that it’s all some bridal magazine delusion. I’m not even saying there’s anything wrong with throwing a big, expensive, bridal-magazine-esque party to celebrate, and I say this as a woman whose husband broke up with her on their wedding day, but you have to understand what marriage really means, which is just a REALLY big fucking commitment. And the party has NOTHING to do with the marriage or the commitment. It’s JUST a fucking party, and sadly, the word “commitment” doesn’t hold the same weight it did fifty years ago. We’re more aware, informed, attention-deficit, selfish, and realizing there’s so much more to being fulfilled than having a man and some babies, even though it’s ultimately the babies that start this whole race to some perceived finish line in the first place.
We are biologically programmed to procreate. Even those of us that have known from the time a doll was shoved in our face that we don’t want kids, still think about it, because it’s rooted so deeply in our DNA. Even those of us that fear stretch marks, and our hips getting wider, and what popping out a kid will do to our preciously tight vagina, and what breast feeding will do to our perfectly rosy nipples, find ourselves fantasizing over what it would be like if we accidentally got knocked up by this one guy…And so we chase, and we date, and sometimes we even settle when we think we’re running out of time to procreate, and we completely forget that getting married is not some conclusion. It’s just another phase of life, and it requires just as much work as everything else we want to succeed, and finding happiness has nothing to do with any of the above.