Author’s Note: The following are thoughts on marriage from a woman who is soon to be married, and who has a historical tendency to lose herself in relationships.

My romantic relationship has recently been under strain from the inevitable and relentless fluctuations of life: death and illness in our immediate families, moving house, planning a wedding, going through joint finances for the first time, looking after our (big) dog, spending time with family, and the usual work difficulties.

Decisions decisions decisions, emotions emotions emotions.

All within the space of a few months. Add to these the pressure of keeping things romantic and having sex with someone with whom you are arguing about which tomatoes to buy—I’m exaggerating, but you get the gist—decidedly unsexy.

This is all happening during our period of engagement; and for someone who believed marriage (or committed partnership) was the end of the affair—the beginning of my life—this has been a shock. And has occasionally left me wanting to run away like, I have done in the past when things have gotten hard.

The below comment from a married family member neatly encapsulates what I’m coming to terms (and grips) with now:

Marriage is not the happy ending, it’s the beginning of a roller coaster.

Having lived my whole life seeing marriage as the finish line, and having lived completely detached from what happens within it, means I feel slightly unprepared for the turbulence.

And I don’t think I’m the only one.

This is not a commentary on the institution of marriage, rather one on the limitations of being a rosy-cheeked “damsel in distress” fed on fairytales of happily ever afters, now grappling with the implications of taking responsibility for her life.

“I studied many spiritual and philosophical writings. It felt as though they led me up a huge flight of stairs to a giant cathedral inside my mind, but once I reached the top of the stairs, the door to the church was locked. […] The key, very simply, is other people.” ~ Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love

What have I learnt?

Although I’ve been given a myriad of tips and have talked through many potential scenarios, what I’ve learnt is not how to plan what I will do if or when xyz happens, whether I’ll change my name, what I would do if my partner sleeps with someone else, whether it’s natural or not to be with one person for 60 odd years, how we will discipline our children, or what happens if there is illness—all important conversations, but, at least for me, not the core of the matter at hand.

Because, as far as I can tell, commitment is so much bigger than all of these. It is so much deeper, more sacred, holy.

Even though all these things make up the whole.

What I’m starting to catch on to, what I’m starting to truly understand, is that this experience is radically teaching me about myself, and all the beliefs and stories I’ve been living in. It is leading me to a deeper connection with myself and others, a new understanding of what it means to love and be love—something found within deep commitment.

I am being pushed to understand what I want. To make decisions, and to take responsibility for them—whether I get what (I think) I want, or not.

It is also teaching me to look at my partner not as the rose-tinted answer to my life, but as the opportunity to truly let go, to practice non-attachment, and to love according to bell hook’s definition of how Erich Fromm described it: “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.” To truly know oneself, and another.

“How boring! How un-romantic!” says my romcom and Taylor Swift-engorged brain.

When we were long distance,I used to say to my partner that I wanted us to do everyday things together like wait for a bus. Now we’re doing the everyday things and it feels like the romance is gone. Romance is a slippery thing. Romance is only one form of love. (Although I still am a sucker for romance).

“Love is wanting what’s best for the other person. Romance is wanting the other person.” ~ Gloria Steinem

Partnership means being true to yourself over and over again, while letting someone else be true to themselves over and over. And meeting somewhere in the middle. It is knowing yourself with a mirror standing opposite you.

Maybe that’s the most romantic thing of all?

Why am I so Unprepared?

I wonder how many people walk down the aisle and wonder how they got there. I know it happens throughout marriages. And our lives too. How the fuck did I get here?

Here are some of my theories/experiences/questions as a straight 31-year-old white European woman:

>> I spent my whole life trying not to be single/being subliminally told I shouldn’t be single but never knowing what true partnership actually entails. Most tales of love (romcoms) I’ve seen are either not helpful or just plain unhelpful.

>> These tales almost always centre men, despite the protagonist being a woman.

>> I don’t know what I really want because I have always outsourced my needs and taken on other people’s needs. The biggest gift I have ever been given is being asked what I want.

>> I have also outsourced my decisions, usually to the men in my life, and absolved myself from responsibility (which leads to resentment).

>> I fixated on the partnership as a way to bypass myself, when true partnership means facing myself completely. And not always looking for the easy way out or to reject responsibility when things get hard.

>> I believed throughout my life that the ultimate goal was marriage, without ever thinking about what marriage really means. Had no idea, actually. Usually because we are so focused on the wedding.

>> Also…we wait for the man to choose us? He’s the one who asks! And a lot of the time we don’t think about whether we choose them. Just like being on a date wondering whether they like us instead of asking ourselves if we like them.

>> So how am I supposed to go into relationship and make huge decisions (choosing your partner is probably the most important decision you will make in your life) without having any understanding of myself?

The Jane Austen Effect

Like many other eligible young women I recently watched “The Other Bennet Sister” (BBC); a friend (and co Austen devotee) also watched it and commented how rare it is to see a romantic couple be friends, laugh together, be vulnerable, and be themselves, together!

Incidentally, the story is a spin-off of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice, a masterpiece and also culprit for my fantasies of marriage. Even the headstrong heroine ends up a bride, with the added perk of becoming mistress of a beautiful home; which would never have been possible without a man due to English property law. Let’s not forget the impact of centuries of systemic cultural, economic, social, political, and physical subservience of women.

Pride & Prejudice was representative of the (generalized) reality of the time: be married or be miserable.

But “The Other Bennet Sister” also acknowledges you can be married and be miserable. So how do we commit without resentment? How can we be in relationship without losing ourselves?

I’ve learnt that while it’s important to acknowledge and understand the impact of patriarchal systems, assigning blame only leads to more resentment and shirking of responsibility. To go forward, I need to take the reins and make my own decisions (yes, it hurts).

A Few Things I have Learnt on this Journey—because We all Love a List.

>> No one has the same experience in relationships. Every relationship is different, and every single person is different.

>> That being said, you can learn from others’ experiences. But instead of using these as a guide to what to do, use them as a guide back to yourself.

>> No one is responsible for your emotions other than you. They are simply pointing you back towards parts of yourself that need some love and attention. This one is hard to acknowledge. (Being in an abusive relationship is very different.)

>> There is very little information and support out there around how to be true to oneself and be in relationship. It’s not so easy to do, I’m still figuring it out.

>> You have to put yourself first, your partner puts themselves first, and together you decide on the places where you meet each other.

>> We all fight differently; and there are also rules to good clean fighting. Some of my favorites: take some time to calm down if you start to feel overly emotional and if you have something to say, say it (as calmly as possible).

>> Try to have compassion for yourself and others. Life can be rough.

Questions to Ask Yourself before you Commit:

>> Am I going into this from a place of lack, or from a place of wholeness?

>> Why am I saying yes? Am I doing it to give my life purpose or meaning? Or because I really want to.

>> Can I go into this without expectations?

>> Can I also take responsibility for my expectations?

>> Where did I learn what makes a good relationship? Does this still apply in my life now?

>> What are my personal goals? Does this partnership serve them?

~

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