The Knot. Maybe Not. (Or, Why I Ain't Wasting My Time.)

Well, you don't even want to get married, so I guess it doesn't matter, Goldi said over her martini (the oddly moniker'd LA Woman) in reaction to my stating that I don't see myself with my neighbor forever.

Well, no, I want a partner in life. I just don't know if I actually want to get married.

I took a sip of my Pom Passion martini. I was irked.

So, you do want to get married, she pressed.

No. I don't see myself getting married. I just can't see it. Not with him, not with anyone.

We went back and forth, until Beauty cut in (Her drink? The champagne splashed Socialite martini), saying that she got what I was saying about not needing a piece of paper. Which isn't quite the case, either, but I let it go at that point. Goldi, I'm sure, still thinks I want to get married & simply haven't found the one, but I am not so on board with her.

This then lead to the inevitable, 'Then why are you wasting your time with him?' conversation.

But, after my Ex & I broke up, after five years together - five years of figuring that I had, simply put - signed up for wifedom & motherhood,  after five years of holding myself back to hold him up, and twenty eight years of thinking that that is simply what I am supposed to do, combined with three years of driving home secretly petrified at night on PCH thinking to myself,

 Oh my god what the fuck have I signed up for?

Well, after we broke up, I kind of let go of that whole set of expectations for myself.
To be honest, my parents were never the 'go-off-to-college-&-get-your-Mrs.-degree' kind of parents; now with me at 29.5, they have five marriages between them, and my dad's favorite thing to tell us growing up (other than announcing that he was a lesbian at the dinner table) was, 'Girls, don't get married 'til your 30.'  I remember once he told me that whatever we did in life, he would hate to see his girls become just housewives at the beck and call of their husbands. And out of us three girls, and my two step brothers forthatmatter - only one of us is even near marriage: My oldest step brother - who at 31 is finally settling down (in life aaaaand with being engaged to a nice girl). But even with parents who don't tell you to go from their house to the sorority house to your husband's house, the societal expectation of women is to yearn for their perfect man to get down on bended knee & ask the question of 'til death do we part.*

*And lets procreate too!

Don't get me wrong, I have often asked myself, Who would be in my wedding party? And for many years (of few friends) I could only narrow it down to my own sisters & my Ex's sister. And I still, as I believe most single women do, ask myself who would be in my wedding party if it where to be next week. And much to my delight, I have a long list of her, her, her, her, her... You get the idea.
But do I actually - can I actually see myself walking down the aisle? The short answer is, No. And I get it, I get the thought going through your head, 'Oh but thats just because you haven't found The One.'
Which may very well be true, but you know, I have always had a hard time seeing myself in the future, concretely.

You see, some people take The Future for granted, and I will be completely honest with you, I don't. Not to get all sad on you, but it probably has something to do with being raised by a woman who (sadly) was widowed at 24 one week to the day before I was born. Sunday to Sunday.
And being born nine months to the day that my mother and my birth father were married. July to April.
Talk about 'the folklore of my life'. But I digress.

I am can be deceptively transparent.

Even when I was with my Ex, could I actually imagine marrying him? Yes & No. Because even though I thought that that was the 'plan', when he walked in that day and said he couldn't see it either, I breathed a sigh of relief. Phhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeew. And even though I lost my footing in the months afterwards, it was more of a reaction to being alone and rejected and less a reaction to the words he said (and later regretted).
I once asked one of my best friends if she ever saw herself getting married again. And her response,

I'm not sure. No, not really. I just can't imagine giving enough up about myself up to enter into an honest marriage. To let someone in that much. I just can't see that happening.

I agreed. I have too many 'secrets', I thought.
My Aussie, on our final date, asked me if I saw myself in five years walking down the sidewalk with a baby carriage with my friends, married and mommied, I stammered out,

Well, uh... Maybe? I don't know. If you had asked me a year ago, I would have said yes but now... I don't know the answer to that.

(I still believe that this answer may have had some bearing on him breaking it off with me, but I can't be sure.)

But what I do know, is this:



the Sparkle.



My relationship with Apt F has shown me that it is possible to let someone in, share with them my 'secrets' - good & bad - and have them still love me for who I am. All of me.

Do I see myself marrying Apt F? No.
Do I think I am wasting my time with him because I don't? No.
Because I am learning to be better from him; to be open about myself without fear of judgement, to be frank about my feelings and to communicate clearly. And it feels good.

Do I see myself in five years, Married and Mommied? No. I don't. Not really. 
But I've been wrong before.

And, maaaaaaaaaybe it's because I haven't met the One yet.

Or maybe I can't 'see it' because I have the tendency to doubt my own mortality, and simply am unable to take the future for granted, instead focusing on the love I feel around me, in my wonderful life,

as a part of Being Here Now.

Or maybe I'm just jaded.

Or PMSing. Or both.

Who really knows?

But even without the sureness most feel about finding the One, and marrying the One, and yaddayaddayaddatheOne, this is not to say that I am not looking for a Partner. Capital P.

I'm just not on the hunt for a Husband.

I know, I know....
I've said ad nauseam,

I want the Spark.

I want the Love Story.

But now, I have the luxury of adding to that:

I want to be Myself in my own Love Story.

And I'm gaining the confidence & tools to do just that.

Waste not, want not.

Edit: So, I received an email from a very upset mother (mine) telling me to quit smoking and she's sorry and yaddayaddayadda. So, I'm inclined to add, I don't think I am going to die anytime soon, I just have always had the mindset that there is no gaurantee of tomorrow - which, in turn, has made me very focused on the present. (Sometimes to the point of complacency.) Regardless, this is my writing, my brain and I promised myself I would be honest about my musings and thoughts in doing it. And not every thought I have is pretty and has flowers in its hair, if you know what I mean.