I’m No One’s Wife, But I love My Life

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and all that jazz…

To clarify my last post…

I am not anti-marriage. Or anti-wedding. In fact I think the idea of marriage is beautiful and I intend to one day experience it myself.  I like the idea of committing oneself to another person and inviting friends and loved ones to celebrate it. And I’m all about any occasion that lets me wear a pretty dress and dance the night away…

What I dislike is the lemming approach to marriage that my peers (the twenty-something, fresh out of college demographic) follow. I hate watching ill-matched pairs plummet to their proverbial deaths because it’s “what you do after graduation”.

It’s even worse to witness when these individuals have not been together very long.  In her book, “Anatomy of Love” anthropologist Helen Fisher remarks that the average amount of time various “monogamous” members of the animal kingdom spend in pairs is four years. This is the amount of time it normally takes for the infatuation and attraction phases of a relationship to end. Also it’s the same amount of time it takes for a baby animal (or human) to grow out of the very dependent, infantile stage.

Guess what year 4 of the marriage or relationship is known as in the human kingdom?

Yup. It’s the peak year for divorces. Especially in young marriages.
Of course, not every couple faces this fate, and often those pairs who  seem most likely to end in divorce end up reaching their silver and golden anniversaries. Like my high school sweet heart parents. Or my married-his-first-girlfriend cousin and his wife.  Or Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe. Perhaps even Zach Morris and Kelly Kapowski*, hell even Topanga Lawrence and Cory Matthews.

But they are the exception to the rule.

The truth is that most of the weddings I’ll be attending in the next few years will end in divorce. I blame wedding culture and happily ever afters and 27 Dresses, Made of Honor, Father of the Bride, Cinderella and every other rehashed chick flick that ends in a wedding. Let’s not even talk about the travesties of A Wedding Story, Platinum Weddings, Buff Brides, Bridezilla and all the other reality tv shows.

Weddings should be magical, they’re Your Big Day, they’re the point when two become one, the first day of your new life. You know, the one where your boyfriend/fiancé/husband still doesn’t take out the trash.  But he does wear a shiny ring and call you “wife.”**

Your wedding is when you can justify spending 1,000 dollars one a piece of clothing you’ll wear once in a color that’s been predetermined for you. It’s when you have the honor and privilege of spending the equivalent of a Ford Focus to let family members you haven’t seen in years dance to YMCA and eat Cornish game hens in a banquet room.

Wedding culture encourages excessive spending to continue old, sexist traditions. Like the engagement/wedding rings. Those pretty diamond encrusted rings are symbols that you “belong” to each other. Which is kinda creepy in of itself. Not to mention the whole bloody diamond trade and the upped price of what’s really just a piece of coal due to fancy monopoly footwork in the industry. (Don’t let me fool you, I still like ‘em, I just wish some little African boy didn’t have to lose a finger so Tiffany’s could make 42,000 on a rock.***) Pick up a copy of “The Meaning of Wife” by Anne Kingston for more info.

I think people get caught up in the lights and sirens of the wedding and lose sight of the marriage. A marriage is a legal contract. It’s like going into business. When you get married you have legally bound yourself to another person. You now share credit, share property, share everything. It’s not just an excuse to have a party. It’s not just a pretty, happy, love fest.

So I’m sorry if I don’t sound overly enthusiastic on your “happy occasion,” but I just feel that at 22, well, you’re just not ready. Most of you. But I truly hope you are the exception to the rule.

*jury is still out on these two.
**I hate the word wife. How come Bride is so much more positively connotated than Wife.? Note to Future Fiancé: never call me Wife. Or “my wife”. My name will do just fine. If you really feel it necessary, “My bride,” or “My better half” will serve better.
***seriously. I like diamonds. I think they’re pretty. I want one. But I don’t want a new one. And I want an engagement ring, but I think my fiancé should have one too. It’s not fair that I get to broadcast my “takenness” with a ring and he can appear to be single. I never liked that.

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