…the marrying type
“I am not a marrying type. I am missing the bride gene”
~Carrie Bradshow
i like to think that i’m the type of woman who will have the normal nuclear family one day…one day in a galaxy far, far away
some scientists claim that we all have an alternate dynamic somewhere in a parallel dimension or universe…playing with that idea i like to think that my “alternate” vacuums in her patent leather heels and apron, while singing, and like a nightingale…while there is a roast in the oven and fresh baked cookies on a cooling rack on the counter…her nails and hair are immaculate…her dress cinched around her perfect 24″ waist…she has a teenage boy, a younger than him daughter, a stock-broker husband, 2 dogs, a bird, 3
goldfish and a stray, no-named cat that she feeds…all well-mannered and well manicured…
she spends her days running errands, her mornings exercising herself and the dogs with a long run, and her afternoons, by the pool or in the hammock with a cocktail and a sun hat…her evenings, doting on her children and late evening devoted to her husband…
i imagine she had the perfect wedding, uncomplicated child birth and her white picket fence house is something of its own marriage of eddie bauer and martha stewart…she lives in simple, quiet suburbia…only occasional white collar crime or kids just being punks…no rapes, no murders, no child molesters…
her children grow up to be successful and famous, not infamous…her husband retires early, financially comfortable, and they spend the remainder of their days traveling abroad to exotic and far away places…
this of course, is not my world…mine’s not so “bad” though…the high heels are replaced with whatever slipon’s are in closest proximity, if my feet are even covered at all…the singing still goes on, but it sometimes prompts an encore from the dog, who on occasion has been known to eat a nightingale or two…the stray cat still gets fed, but will then insist at all hours of the morning that you will feed it again, and the good shit this time…and the quiet culdesac in suburbia is really 1200 sqft. of drywall that hardly drowns out my upstairs neighbors bowling practice…
i once wore a wedding dress for about an hour…i ended up having to send it back so that uncle sam could take my would-be husband away, again, to saudi arabia…this would be darren’s third time over, he volunteered to go in his Buddy’s place whose wife had just given birth…i did still get married, though it was brief…i was as good of a wife as i knew how to be…no children, only two dogs and no bills to speak of really…i don’t know so much that i wasn’t the “marrying type” as much as i just didn’t know what “type” of person i was yet…i was barely 23…there was no cheating or beating…nothing but being too young to feel married…i suppose, looking back, i could have tried harder to remain married..but i let it go like a pair of jeans i just decided i wasn’t going to try and squeeze in again…it was amicable and i think of him often and fondly and hope that his life turned out well and happy, last i heard…it had and he was.
now some years later i have children who i had out of wedlock…they are amazing children, very intelligent, very scholastically successful and very much prepubescent…the sperm donor moved out on their 2nd birthday…and the boys and i have been the three amigos ever since…they do see the sperm donor, but they lead two very different lives between their father’s house and mine…he does have the nuclear family…the picket fence…the trophy wife…the successful career…the nice car…the exotic vacations…
i may feel a sense of entitlement for all that he has and all that i don’t, but certainly do not feel jealousy over it…maybe because i know the wife, maybe because i know the real “him”…maybe because for all they have, they are miserable people…whatever it is…i wish no harm to come to him or his family, but i would give up my seat on the karma train if the next stop was his place…i’m just sayin.
i had but a couple “serious” relationships since splitting with their father…anytime anything really got “serious” things got cold, old, stale…for me and for who i was dating…i was never swept off my feet for
very long and once the man realized he was getting serious with not only me, but all my luggage (read: kids)…it began to fizzle…which, i was always ok with…
the thing that always did bother me was even before my kids…all the men i dated with any kind of potential, all ended up marrying or knocking up (or both) the women that they left me for…
i once asked a very good male friend about this phenomena…he said to me “you’re just not the marrying type”…now what the hell does that mean? my gramma, god love her, reminds me every time i go see her that i’m “alone”…to her, alone means not “married”…she tries her best to give me sage advice on being a little more “needy”…on “letting things go”…but i don’t get it…i mean, i get it…i just don’t get how that works…
now, i will ask someone to reach something for me when i could very easily get a chair and do it myself…i let him pamper and take care of me…blah, blah…because [i think] he enjoys it and i like to make him feel happy…not because i’m trying to sucker him into thinking i’m helpless without him…
but what is this “marrying” type of girl? my friend suggested he was saying that i’m “too independent”…”too stubborn and unyielding”…too “stasi”…(too stasi??) anywho…every man i ever dated wanted and liked these qualities in me…i’ve read 1000 singles ads asking for some susie-corporate-board-room woman, who looks good in a cocktail dress and just as good in a baseball hat…come time to settle down and marry her though? what does he want then, his mother? why can a girl not be the fun-time-porn-star and betty crocker at the same time?
don’t misunderstand me, i’m happy. very happy for what i’ve gone through in the last year and where i’ve ended up…i’m very content with my life currently. i’m at point now though where i’m genuinely giving much thought to the future…i’m in no hurry to pin anyone down…i’m in no hurry to be pinned…i’m just curious (and somewhat bothered by the “marrying type” comment)…and in the last few days its been really heavy on my mind…i think maybe because i’m finally on my feet, and for good this time (fingers crossed) and i’ve endured so much…there’s nothing left to share but me…i have a want for companionship, but certainly not a need for it…perhaps that’s what my grammy is saying, maybe i need to learn to be more needful…thoughts?
