There have been a few moments in life where what I thought would happen when I grew up was drastically different from what actually happened or what I realized I wanted. Most of those things have something to do with finances or something to do with romantic relationships. Finances is another post for another time, this is about a few of those moments connected to romantic relationships.
1. Names.
The first moment was when I was 21 and in a feminist studies class. A class discussion turned towards why a woman takes her husband's last name (and why she might choose not to). I left class pondering, for the first time in my life, the idea that I might not take my husband’s last name. That might not seem like a big deviation because you might be thinking I couldn’t possibly have had many thoughts about it before that. But I had… I had read books, watched movies, seen my parents’ choice and the choices of my friends’ parents. I had played Barbies and always had Barbie take Ken’s last name when they got married. I hadn’t thought about it, but I had always assumed the woman just took her husband’s last name. The first moment of even pondering why that was and that it wasn’t something that I necessarily had to do was liberating.
I was talking to my boyfriend of 2 years on the phone later that night and I mentioned that I *might* not take my husband’s last name when I got married. I was eager to share the idea I was so captivated by—not a decision at all, but the mere idea that there was a decision to be made. I didn’t expect it to be an issue. It was. There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, after a bit, “My wife will be Mrs. X.”
2. Kids.
The second moment was when I was 24 and had just broken up with a boyfriend (Mr. X, actually). I had always assumed I’d be getting engaged at that point in my life, getting married, and then having kids. This was only my second long-term relationship that had ended and I was just 24, but, at the time, I felt old and I wondered what would happen if I didn’t ever meet the right person or didn’t meet him in time to have kids. In thinking about that, I realized something about myself—I would be OK not having children. If that wasn’t in the cards in my life, nothing about thinking about not having that caused me panic or angst, despite always having assumed I would have kids. I felt like I would find fulfillment in other things, with or without having children.
I was talking to my mom on the phone shortly thereafter and shared this revelation with her. She got silent and then said something along the lines of “you’ll feel differently when you meet the right person” and “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on something so wonderful.” I pressed further, explaining and justifying my position, and eventually, she was supportive, but I could still hear the doubt and concern in her voice. (She is very supportive now, but it also meant her adjusting to something that went against her default assumptions.)
3. Finding a life partner.
The third moment was recent, at 34. I made a list of things that I want by the time I’m 35 and, for the first time, not a single one of them is connected to a romantic relationship. Previously, anytime in life that I’ve made a list like this—something related to a current romantic relationship or “finding a life partner” was on it.
For the last 5 years, ever since around 29, I’ve felt increasing urgency around making sure to prioritize dating. Having a life partner felt like the last box to check before I could move on to the rest of my life and be an adult. I treated it as I have other things in life, like something I could achieve if I just applied myself appropriately. That’s meant I’ve devoted a substantial portion of my free time and energy these last 5 years to dating… dating men that it didn’t work out with; letting the pursuit of this mystery man I haven’t met yet take center-stage in my life. As time wore on, I felt an increasing sense of urgency about it and like it needed to be more and more of a priority. As a woman, the message you get from a thousand different directions is that your value as a potential life partner starts to diminish rapidly after you hit 30.
I’ve heard the phrase “drops off a cliff” used. I have a friend who is my age and won’t date women who are over 30 as a rule, because he knows he doesn’t want kids until a certain point in his career and he wants his spouse to have the biological runway to fit into his career and life plans.
But, here I was… jotting down what I want by the time I turn 35 and there was nothing about a romantic relationship. It wasn’t deliberate. I didn’t notice its absence until I was looking at the list afterwards. At some point in the months before this, I realized that I don’t know when my life partner is coming, and that’s OK; maybe I’ll never meet him. It’s not something that happened at “the prescribed time” for me and I’m going to stop letting the pursuit of it be a priority in my life. I’ll meet him—when I meet him. Time to plunge ahead with the rest of my life. My free time is mine. I want it for myself. I want it to fuel my passions, my health, my wealth, my career, my platonic relationships. I don't want to spend it in some frenzied search for what society tells me I'm supposed to have by a certain point.
Anthony on Sex and the City would talk to Charlotte about having “no mans” and I remember it always being in the context of it being a bad thing. Right now, for me, having “no mans”– it’s a good thing.
