Ideal/Real

So fiancé Steve and I are still knee-deep in cardboard boxes and all the paper, packing tape, and perpetual angst that come with moving.

As I was packing my less-than-organized study, I discovered the two Dove wrappers pictured above. Some months ago, on a colder and quieter night, Steve and I sat across the table from one another as we each unwrapped our dark chocolate desserts and discovered these two strangely connected sentiments. At the time they called up our romantic on-the-beach engagement and other strolls we’ve taken hand-in-hand on the sand.

As I read them today, and consider them now in the context of the second photograph—the loads of blankets, quilts, and catbeds that had to be schlepped to the laundromat in order to corral them all for the move—I heard different echoes. Watching a sunset followed by a sunrise together may suggest a long and lingering night of romance. But it’s also what happens when you commit to marrying someone, to living with them, to going to bed together each night after the sun falls over the mountains, rising in the morning as the light streams through the window and you take turns in the bathroom and feed the dog and cats and decide whose turn it is to take out the trash or drop off the dry-cleaning.

Such day-to-day ordinary moments are both less romantic than the “ideal,” and infinitely more so. After all, most of us spend far more moments in the presence of our beloved doing laundry, walking the dog, and unloading the dishwasher than we do taking in sunrises or sunsets in dramatic and pre-determined “romantic” locales. I want to know that my love will survive, even thrive, not just in the beautiful spaces, but through stacks of boxes and backloads of laundry.

That’s reality, and on all those ordinary day-to-days, it’s more than enough for me.

Weddings and the Interwebs

More than once I have wondered, as a 21st-century bride who lived the first third of my life in the 20th-century, what it would have been like to plan a wedding before the advent of the internet.

Easier in some ways, no doubt. For one thing, the sheer volume of wedding ideas on Pinterest alone is near-paralyzing. The more choices you have, the harder it is to make a decision. Malcolm Gladwell illustrates this phenomenon in his bestseller Blink when he describes psychologist Sheena Iyengar’s jam experiment: consumers who had 24 jams to choose from purchased one 3% of the time, but when offered only 6 choices, 30% bought a jar. Other studies have shown how people get caught in an endless loop of serial online dating, seduced by a sense of endless possibilities. The same phenomenon occurs when faced with an apparently endless array of wedding dress or bouquet styles.

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Sign here…or?

And then there’s the creepy factor: as soon as I search for, say, “jewelry with blue stones” on Etsy, the ads running down the side of my Facebook feed are filled with…jewelry featuring blue stones. Shortly thereafter, I receive an email on the same subject. I don’t know how much direct (paper) marketing wedding vendors did before the web, but my email inbox overflows with all things bridal. The internet brought with it more items on the bride’s to-do list: TheKnot.com’s recently updated checklists added “Search for (flowers, dresses, centerpieces, etc).” And most couples these days create and maintain the near-requisite wedding website.

And then there are the social media pre-nuptial agreements.

You read that right.

With this Post, I Thee Contract

Shortly after Steve and I got engaged last year, ABC News and Time magazine reported on the rise of social media pre-nuptial agreements. Apparently couples are increasingly creating and signing on to contracts that detail “what they can and can’t post online” and, in many cases, imposing monetary fines for violations (more on that in a moment). Charlotte Alter captured the absurdity of this phenomenon nicely, I thought: “Dating a jerk who cares more about his Facebook than your feelings? Don’t worry! You can get a social media pre-nup to protect your online reputation while you continue to sleep with the callous twit of your dreams.”

Um, why would you want to do either of those things?

I know from experience a person’s online behavior offers considerable insight. I once dated a man whose political and religious beliefs contrasted mine. In person, he discussed those differences rationally, and indicated respect for my point of view. He also had an online avatar he thought was anonymous (not so much) which he used for commenting on articles and websites. Online, when he thought no one was looking, he was irrational, disrespectful, and full of vitriol. Hello—and good-bye—Mr. Hyde.

I’ve also lived the “don’t post any pictures of us together” relationship. A person who won’t claim you as a partner publicly is not a partner you want.

It’s a no-brainer. If you don’t like how your partner treats or represents you on social media while you’re dating or engaged, and you strongly suspect he or she would misrepresent or mistreat you online if the marriage dissolved, maybe you shouldn’t marry that person.

And then there’s those monetary fines: pay your partner $50,000 (choke) if you post an “unflattering photo.” Unless all your finances are completely separate, how is one spouse paying another not the equivalent of playing with Monopoly money? If you later draw upon that money for a mutual expense, haven’t you just created ill-will for no good reason?

Healthy couples don’t contract; they communicate. “Hey honey,” I said to Steve, when I got online to post some photos from one of our beach trips. “I’m going to post some pictures. Which ones do you like? Is this one okay? What about this one?” I thought he looked handsome in all of them, of course. But when he said yes to the first and frowned at the second, I respected his choice.

Beach together

This photo is mutually approved!

That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Most people know airing dirty laundry or making passive-aggressive comments about a partner is a bad idea in any public forum, be it social media or a backyard social. If it’s an issue, instead of visiting a lawyer for a pre-nup, you might want to see a counselor for professional relationship guidance. Research has shown that couples who offer five positive statements—compliments, expressions of thanks, etc.—for every one critical piece of feedback are more likely to stay together.

World Wired Weird

Everything has its flip side. Planning a wedding sans the web would also be harder in some ways. There would be no wedding website, which–though time-consuming initially–allowed us to streamline our invitations, and relieved some pressure when they were slightly delayed. I’m a bit phone-phobic, so I’m thrilled to be able to communicate with vendors via email. I would miss having access to online craft tutorials and Etsy. And obviously, without the web, I wouldn’t have the opportunity or joy of chronicling this journey on a blog.

We’re gonna skip the social media pre-nup.

Yes, everything has its flip side. For many years I struggled to appreciate the boons of being single. My schedule was my own, I could decorate my home any way I liked, and adopt as many cats as I pleased. 🙂 But I was lonely (cats notwithstanding), and I wanted someone to laugh with, someone to hold me, someone to share my thoughts with, to ask, “How was your day?”

Steve and I haven’t yet walked down the aisle, but one of the gifts  our almost-marriage has already granted is perspective: the understanding it’s all a trade-off. I can more fully appreciate the gifts of the life I’ve led up to now, even as I thrill to the prospect of exchanging those gifts for others. I now, finally, see the whole of my life, as, well, whole.

Here at the crossroads, I look back and I look forward. And everything I see is a brave new world.

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Desert Sunset: An Anniversary Reflection

LisaToddromanticNote from FsFTB:

My brother Todd and his wife Lisa, pictured here in 2014, just celebrated their twelfth anniversary a few days ago. I have long been inspired by the love they share and the ways they lift each other up in even the toughest times, so I asked them what advice or wisdom they might offer as I get ready to walk down the aisle.

They sent me the following. You might want to grab some tissues first.

Todd and Lisa

When Sandee asked us to write about our love in honor of our twelfth anniversary, we thought it would be easy. Turns out, not so much. Legal battles, cancer, money issues, struggles with our five children had sometimes overshadowed the spark that always held us together. We stared at each other, floundering for ideas.

Todd said, “What about our high school yearbooks? We could start there.”YearbooksJHS

The beginning is most always a good bet on where to start.

We wrote our initial commentaries separately, with plans to then head out to the Nevada desert, thinking a peaceful place might make the task of comparing and combining them into a finished essay easier to complete. Continue reading

www.blog.timesunion.com
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Alight

Tomorrow is Independence Day. Red, white, and blue everything will abound, and towns across the United States will sound with clanging cymbals, sizzling brats, fizzing sparklers, and booming blooms of light.

The holiday has made me think about how often we talk about love in terms of sparks and fireworks. “Sparking” is even an old-fashioned word for “courting.” But it doesn’t take much of a tug on the metaphor to trouble it. Sparks flash hot and burn bright. Sometimes they start a big flame; too often, they fizzle, and fast.

Chemistry matters. Yet scientists tell us that the initial spark, the feeling of being “in love,” is better understood as an altered chemical state akin to addiction than as the stuff of real intimacy. The rush is intense and intoxicating: you’re drawn to your partner, compelled, amazed. You feel alive and exuberant when you’re together. The whole world is your holiday, every day lit up like a Fourth of July sky.

Fireworks dazzle. They light up the night, big and bold. Yet their beauty quickly dissolves into wisps of smoke.

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Consider a man I once knew, certain he had to feel a spark and fall in love within the first fifteen minutes, or there was no chance a relationship could grow. There are good reasons why one might assume disappointment would attend any sentence that combined the words “love” and “fifteen minutes.” But we’re not talking about love, then, are we?

Relying on “love-at-first-interaction” as the sole (or best) proof of lasting compatibility defies not only reason but research. It confuses love with lust, giving an emotional weight and depth to a chemical and biological impulse that’s only a small piece of the puzzle determining whether someone is a match.

The very fact of morning-after regrets proves initial attraction, however intense, an unreliable litmus test for lifetime harmony.
Sparklers1

Fiancé Steve and I are planning to celebrate the Fourth at a pool party. There will be good food, great fun, and, no doubt, celebratory snaps and pops. At the end of the evening, after the sparklers have sizzled and the fireworks faded, we’ll gather with our friends around the low-burning flames and glowing coals of a warm, flickering campfire.

And that’s exactly where I’ll want to be.

If lust is a spark, love is a campfire. Sustained with attention and care, it grows with time. It comforts and steadies, not only on special occasions, but through the slog and wonder of the ordinary day.

Sparks ignite, and fireworks astonish. But a campfire, if you tend it, will keep you warm. It will nourish you, feed you. Fire is elemental, the essence of life itself.

And while sparks don’t guarantee a flame, hot coals do promise sparks.

All you have to do is stir, and watch them fly.

campfire

Not-So-True-Love Tuesday: The Way-Back / Way Forward Edition

Broken heartI played one of those internet quiz-games not long ago. This one was pretty simple: type in your birth-date, and it would tell you what song was number one on the charts the day you were born. I got a good laugh when mine came up with the Fifth Dimension’s “Wedding Bell Blues.” You know, the song where the woman is cajoling her lover Bill to marry her? And repeats, “Am I ever gonna see my wedding day?”

Wow, says forty-something-first-time-bride. Prophesy much?

The truth is, I started running into trouble with romance early on, and I had especially bad luck with movie dates. When my sixth grade “boyfriend” K. wanted to take me to a movie for my birthday, my parents agreed, as long as his mother went too. She and his little brother went in to the theatre ahead of us to sit down while we got popcorn. The theatre was dark, previews running, by the time we wandered in. I picked a row and settled in as K. hissed, “No, are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” I whispered back.

I’d inadvertently chosen seats right behind his mother and brother.

I wish I’d had a chaperone, or maybe a weapon, on my first solo movie date when I was fourteen. My crush—let’s call him “Toad”–called me up out of the blue, and my folks agreed I could meet him at the theatre. He was late (probably, I later learned, because he’d just come from some other movie with some other girl). And he was an oversexed lech. Yes, teenage boys have raging hormones, but no one else I ever went out with repeatedly pushed my resisting head toward his lap. Toad couldn’t keep his hands to himself and kept trying to put mine on his unzipped crotch. I’d never even been kissed. “Creep” doesn’t quite cover it.

from IMDB

from IMDB

In the ninth grade, my longtime chorus buddy P. asked me to go see Dune. When he and his mother arrived to pick me up, P. awash in cologne, I wondered if he was thinking something other than “buddies.” I shrugged it off. Searching for seats inside the theatre, we spotted someone waving: it was A., a tall, handsome tenth-grader who was in chorus with us. A. had come to the movies alone, so I—innocently, I swear—suggested to P. that we sit with him. Only after I was sandwiched between them, passing the movie vocab sheet that had come with our tickets back and forth between a strangely jubilant A. and a rather sullen P., did I realize I’d screwed up, yet again.

Not all my dating misfortunes involved the cinema. There was the time my high school boyfriend M. and I decided to go parking on the covered carport of an empty house for sale. In his sliding over to my seat, he knocked the gearshift of his Honda Civic into drive, so that when he restarted the car to leave, it jumped forward, the front wheels rolling over the lip of the concrete parking pad. Did I mention the Civic had a front wheel drive? A few friends, his father, and several policemen later, we managed to pull the car out. The irony was, we’d spent the evening just cuddled up, talking.

Several memorable star-crossed mishaps were food-related, like the time I was scheduled for a second date with a fellow I really liked, got food poisoning, and had to call and cancel. Talk about great timing: I hadn’t thrown up for something like 10 years before that, and I wouldn’t barf again for another 20. But we never had another date. Or then there was the really sweet, lovely dinner-and-a-show first date I had with J., which was probably as perfect an evening as you get—except for that awkward moment I bit down on a sharp object in my salad and had to extract a metal lettuce-crate staple from a mouthful of chewed romaine. Try that trick next time you’re looking to impress someone.

And that just takes us through high school.

♥ ♥ ♥

I don’t remember who said it, or wrote it, or when, but somewhere along the way, I was introduced to this idea: the common denominator in all the dates that went awry, the relationships that didn’t launch? Me.

I’ve lived most of my adult life (thus far) as a hapless romantic. It became, over time, a significant piece of my identity, being the single woman with all the crazy dating stories. Now that I’m getting married, the shift in my sense of self sometimes feels strange, almost alien.

I certainly had my fair share of not-so-true-love dates and near-disasters post-high school. There was the awkward dinner date that sent me straight to retail therapy, and the “Oh, did I mention I’m into poly-amory?” moment. And there was the time a guy asked me—while my date for the evening stood in the next room, ten feet away—if I’d be interested in “being asked out.” Wow: both ballsy (in the next room) and cowardly (asking if I want you to ask? Really?). He’s the same guy who recently expressed frustration that he keeps meeting nice women who seem good prospects, but then they bail, and he doesn’t understand why. The former profile picture (still visible in an album) featuring his screaming face superimposed over a woman’s naked, spread-eagle genitalia might be a factor. But I think that falls in the if-you-don’t-already-know, I-can’t-help-you category.photo

I myself have encountered puzzling problems (what do you mean, you can’t sleep until you fully void your colon, even if that means sitting for an hour before you come back to bed?) and painful puzzles (did you really just proposition me a) one month after you broke things off, and b) one hour after you told me men would flock my way if I just lost five pounds?). I’ve encountered the truly perilous (capsizing in a canoe and losing first an oar, then my car keys—and finally the boat) and the deeply poignant (a friend suffering from post-traumatic-stress-disorder after an agonizing divorce).

But I wouldn’t trade any of my not-so-true-love moments (okay, well, maybe except for losing the boat). They’re instructive, after all. Big red flags waving in the wind are helpful signs: Caution. Think twice.

There are a lot of reasons not to couple up with someone, a lot of reasons not to marry person X or Y. Some of those reasons are pretty universal: don’t marry someone who abuses you, physically or verbally. It’s probably a bad idea to attach yourself to someone who lacks self-awareness, or who can’t love you as you are. Some reasons are a bit more individual: it wouldn’t work for me to couple up with someone who can’t see his own misogyny, or someone who’s a great person but who comes with weighty baggage I’m unable, or unwilling, to carry.

There are a lot of good it’s-not-so-true-love reasons not to pair-bond, not to marry someone.

Their being of the same sex isn’t one of those reasons.

♥ ♥ ♥

In the wake of the recent Supreme Court ruling in favor of marriage equality, I’ve seen a lot of love, and a lot of hate, on the interwebs. One of my favorite comments came from someone named Rachel, on a public thread I’m not sure I could find again if I tried. Rachel said “I’m not gay married, I’m married.” Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Love is love, peeps.

If you are one of the folks who can’t or don’t or won’t understand the difference between constitutionally guaranteed human rights and your own personal sense of what is right and wrong (and you are entitled to that sense, but you must realize the whole world need not follow your personal ideals, any more than they will all love brussel sprouts just because you do)—please, work to get over it. The best explanation I’ve seen comes from lawyer Jessica Eaves Matthews, who writes:

“Those railing against the decision of marriage equality as a basic constitutional right are confusing the idea of constitutional (i.e human) rights with certain types of behavior (the stuff they call “sin”). But human rights are inherent in all human beings and US citizens – not doled out based on who is behaving “well” and who isn’t. All US citizens should have the equal right to pursue life, liberty and happiness, regardless of the “sins” they commit. The only behavior that should curtail your constitutional rights is if you commit a crime (a felony) and are convicted. But even then, criminals can still marry, have kids, own property, work and live in our communities. The only things they can’t do is vote and carry firearms. If committing a sin was a barrier to receiving basic constitutional rights in this country, we would all be in big trouble, not just the LGBT community.”

Unless you are equally prepared to argue that a judge should not, because of religious objections, marry someone because of other “bad behaviors” (based on a biblical definition of such), such as anyone who’s ever gotten divorced, had sex out of wedlock, eaten pork—then stop. Just stop.

If you don’t, almost no one is going to qualify for marriage. Ever. Even you. Seriously. You know I’m right.

Judge Dennise Garcia, left front, watches as George Harris, center left, 82, and Jack Evans, center right, 85, kiss after being married by Judge Garcia Friday, June 26, 2015, in Dallas. Gay and lesbian Americans have the same right to marry as any other couples, the Supreme Court declared Friday in a historic ruling deciding one of the nation's most contentious and emotional legal questions. Celebrations and joyful weddings quickly followed in states where they had been forbidden. (AP Photo/Tony Gutierrez)

George Harris,  82, and Jack Evans, 85, kiss after being married (AP Photo/Tony Gutierrez, HuffPost)

How many of us have been in a committed relationship with the same person for over 50 years? I’m guessing not that many. These fellows are my heroes: Jack Evans and George Harris, who met at a party in Dallas in 1961 and have been together since. Now 85 and 82, they were married in Dallas on Friday at the Records Building. George had this to say: “Love is everywhere, and that’s a great thing.”

It is, indeed. Fifty-four years. Fifty-four years by choice, without any legal bind, or tax benefits. Just love. Show me what’s not true about that.

That’s the way forward. Walk on.

49 Years and Counting: Anniversary Wisdom

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My parents on their wedding day

My parents Garry and Margaret met around 50 years ago when my dad was teaching high school in Texas and my mom was a flight attendant for Continental Airlines based in Dallas. In their early twenties when they married, they moved to Georgia within a few years so my father could teach and pursue a graduate degree. My mom worked hard at caring for my older brother and me at home and later returned to school to become a teacher herself.

Now both retired and enjoying grand-parenthood, their church, and the arts of quilting (mom) and beekeeping (dad), they just celebrated their 49th anniversary.  I asked them what their secret was to keeping it together. My dad deferred to my mom (hmm…), who, with his input, shared the following remarks and insights. -FsFTB

A few words from Margaret

Yesterday Garry and I celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary. Sandee asked to what we owed our long marriage. I asked Garry what he thought, and we both agreed we have no idea. But Sandee has asked me to share our long-marriage survival skills…so here goes.

Disclaimer: I cannot say if the things on this list are the exact elements that contributed to our long marriage, or guarantee they’ll work for others. But they are things I try to practice, and I feel like they strengthen the marriage relationship.

1. Acceptance of each other, “as is.” It’s not a good idea to enter the marriage with the idea you will change your spouse. Better to remember all the wonderful things that made you fall in love to start with and focus on and strengthen those elements. If your spouse’s one bad habit annoys you, remember that you likely have two bad habits that annoy your spouse.

Dadtipshishat

Respect!

2. Show each other respect.

3. Compromise is not a four letter word. You can’t always have things the way you want them. Work together to find a solution both can live with. Sometimes this takes a bit of time.

4. Communicate. Tell your spouse what you are feeling and what you need; your spouse cannot read your mind. Be a good listener. Not all problems require a solution; sometimes people just need to be listened to. Be a supporter.

5. Disagreements & arguments happen. Try to understand your spouse’s point of view. NEVER name call or curse at your spouse (see #2). Remember, sometimes you lose. It’s okay — after you’ve been married 49 years, you’ll no longer remember the losses anyway.

6. Don’t go to bed angry. You won’t sleep well if you do, so say “I love you” and kiss and make-up. That may mean you’ll have to say “I’m sorry.” That’s a good thing – never hesitate to admit when you have been wrong. Flowers or a favorite home-cooked meal helps here. Be quick to forgive, forget and move on. There is nothing to be gained by beating a dead horse.

7. Dream together. In one of Sandee’s previous posts she quoted the following: “True love is beyond the physical and romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, and will not be. Life isn’t about learning how to weather the storm, but learning how to dance in the rain.” I like that and agree, but I was struck by the second sentence. My thought was that something was missing, and that something was “all that WILL be” — the good, the bad, the joy, the sorrow, etc. (Ed. note: My mom is smart–not that I didn’t already know that. I inadvertently misquoted: the original did contain the “will be” piece!) Marriages need dreams and hopes that couples can build on together so that they can move forward through what is and will be. In doing so then they can perhaps more readily accept the things that will not be. And a lot of things will not be – that is life, that is love. But don’t give up the dreams. They are what help you weather the storm and dance in the rain.

MomDadFarmers

Sharing a sense of humor!

8. Play together. Get away together on occasion just to enjoy each other’s company. No kids, family or friends – just the two of you. Focus on each other, get reacquainted.

9. Have a sense of humor. Lots of funny things happen in a marriage…look for the humor in any situation. Laugh often and heartily. But don’t make your spouse the butt of the joke (see #2).

10. What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom. Unless you are talking to a sex therapist, keep your sex-life between the two of you.

11. The old adage “don’t air your dirty laundry in public” is a good one to follow. Public arguments only make those around you uncomfortable and don’t make you look so good.

12. Practice your faith together and regularly.

Oh, and lastly, NEVER, NEVER roll your eyes — unless your back is turned. 😉

MomandDad

My beautiful folks–happy anniversary!