In talking about my new series, In My Ideal World, I realized that I wanted to talk about little things, too. Or rather, things that don’t fall neatly into identity categories. Things that are tangentially related, but not necessarily in a category of their own. Such as weddings. They are definitely related to relationships and gender identity (not to mention sexual identity), but they aren’t something I would consider necessary to any of those categories. (Here is yesterday’s post.)
And yet.
This is one of those issues that is so huge in our culture, and yet.
I’m hesitating to write how I feel about it because it’s SUCH a huge aspect of our culture (and most cultures, really). I’ll save the deeper thoughts until I’m going to write about it for real, but I’ll just say that for me personally, it’s not important. Marriage is a positive as long as it serves the couple/throuple/community, but weddings themselves? I hold no truck in them.
I do get the need for ritual and to anonuce to the world your intent. But, I don’t get why it has to be a BIG WEDDING. I know it doesn’t, but many people seem to think it does. Even people whom I consider pretty progressive seem to get stuck on this tradition.
As with many things, I’m libertarian with a small l. I wish and want people to be free to do and be who they are. As long as that doesn’t hurt other people (actually hurt them and not “hurt” them. I’ll explore that difference in future posts), have at life as they wish. Want to be in a monogamous relationship with a person of the traditionally opposite gender? Have at it! Want to have children and watch cheesy Disney movies with them? Have at it! (Well, no, don’t. Don’t support Disney!) Want to go to church on Sunday and tithe religiously? Have at it!
I mean all that, truly. No hate, no snark. Well, maybe the teensiest bit of snark. My biggest issue is that I don’t get the same accord from the normies. Believe me I know all about how being a minority means not being seen–especially when you’re in the categories I am. It makes me cranky, though, when I’m asked to show empathy to someone in the majority because I always have to think about others.
Like with marriage. I have known since I was in my twenties that I didn’t want to get married. That was Not Done, apparently. I dated a guy in my late twenties who said to me, “I know you have said you don’t want to get married, but what would you say if I proposed to you?” He also once got really excited after going to a wedding (or maybe a bachelor’s party? I can’t remember) because the couple got a toaster oven. He waxed rhapsodically about it and said jokingly (but not really) that maybe we should get married so we could get a toatser oven. I looked at him in amazement and said, “We’re adults. If we want a toaster oven, we can buy one.”
I was thick. I couldn’t see that he wanted to get married, but didn’t know how to bring it up to me. He was also the one who wanted to open our relationship, but then freaked out when I wanted to go on a date with the hot bartender I had been flirting with all night.It took me way too long to realize that he wanted to open the relationship so he could date other women while I sat at home and tended the hearth.
That happened with the other guy I dated who wanted to be open as well, by the way. He did it because he wanted to date his…ugh. It’s a sordid story that I don’t want to get into right now. Let’s just call it his ex-girlfriend (not really), and he wanted to date both of us at the same time. I was not happy about it, obviously, but I begrudgingly agreed. And dated someone else. A few weeks into that, he came to me and said that he couldn’t stand seeing me date someone else, so we closed our relationship again.
I learned from those two experiences nearly a decade apart that I wasn’t monogamous. Yes, I went into both situations reluctantly, but then I found that I actually liked it. I would have been happy to stay open, but neither ex wanted that because they never wanted to be truly open in the first place.
That’s sometihng I would like to talk about. How the expectations of societal norms can really fuck people up. But, also, that what people think is holding them back isn’t always what is really holding them back. What I mean is that both these exes thought they wanted open realtionships but were hesitant to even say so because of how monogamy is pushed in our society (though they were both Asian, East and South, respectively).
That’s a meta that I would like to explore–how traditions and norms stop people from exploring lifestyles that would truly make them happy. I noticed this during my late twenties to early thirties when women were pressing me to procreate. Seriously. I can’t tell you how many people asked if I wanted/had children and why not? It was the first time I really experienced the full thrust of societal norms bearing down on me, and it was such a shock. It made a lasting impression on me, and it’s one reason that I’m anti-tradition.
So many women had bought into the narrative that they had to get married and have children in order to be ‘real’ women, and they got angry, upset, discomfited, etc., when I said I didn’t have them or want them. I realized it when I was twenty, and it was such an overwhelming feeling of relief when I realized that not only did I not want children, I didn’t have to have them. Naively, I thought it was one and done. It was a decision that affected no one but me. Why would anyone care?
People cared. Actually, women cared. Men didn’t care. It was hammered home how societal norms run deep. And how I just didn’t give a fuck. That is going to be a post for sure.