In 19 days, my marriage will begin. I've got some expectations.
#1 I don't think the purpose of my marriage is to make me happy.
People are not bundles of goods and services to be measured with cost/benefit analyses. If I was getting married because he makes me happy then I would divorce him when he stops making me happy. (Spoiler alert: People don't make me happy). I think marriage commitment makes us better people if we let it, and I want to take that seriously.
What if the purpose of marriage is strengthen humanity? To realize that I can be part of something bigger and more important than myself, my fleeting feelings, and my desires?
#2 I don't think my marriage is going to be easy.
Entering into a commitment that forces you to become better than you are doesn't sound easy, but it sounds like something I want. I'm not signing up for a cohabiter until I find someone better. Until he gets fat. Until we can't pay the bills. Until our sex life isn't exciting. Until a million other things. I'm signing up, in the temple of my Father, to be his wife and companion for time and all eternity.
I saw one of those dumb inspirational quotes on the internet that said something like, "If you truly love someone, it's easy to stay faithful." This makes no sense to me. If this is true, then does that mean the moment it isn't easy, I have to start questioning whether I truly love him? I do truly love him, so in those moments when it isn't easy, I'm going to stay anyway. None of those moments have happened to me yet, and I don't know what's going to happen. But I know what I'm going to choose because I'm choosing it right now.
#3 Years from now, I don't think he'll be the same man I fell in love with.
There's this idea out there of basically a consumer marriage. Every five to seven years, the marriage is evaluated and the partners decide if they want to renew the marriage contract or discontinue it with little to no consequences. Sometimes I see people explain their divorces in very nonchalant terms. "We just grew apart." "It's nobody's fault." "We want different things now." If I divorce my husband, there will be kicking and screaming and crying on my part because I'm going into this all in. I can't act so nonchalantly about things I give my whole self to.
#4 Keeping our marriage healthy is a major priority.
We plan and set goals together. We understand numbers 1, 2, and 3 the best that we can right now. We know that there are going to be things we didn't expect about marriage. And we're going to keep going and learning.
#5 OH MY GOODNESS IT'S GOING TO BE THE GREATEST EVER AND I'M SO EXCITED
In case any of you were worried that I'm too focused on the possible bad things in the future. Anyone who knows us knows that we're going to have exorbitant amounts of fun during this whole commitment thing.
Ethan is the most beautiful person I know. I can share my whole self with him and I know he'll laugh with me and help me feel comfortable in my own skin. We talk for hours. We laugh at stupid jokes. We realize that comfortably cuddling is difficult sometimes and we just give up poke each other. Sometimes, I'm overwhelmed with how much I love him and I just have to jump up and down and squeal and OHMAHGOODNESS WE'RE GETTING MARRIED IN 19 DAYS!
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Stories
We hear it all the time. "Everyone is different." "Just be yourself." When you're trying to sell makeup and clothes, you don't want to try to go into detail about how these statements affect the way you relate to the people around you.
"Wear Swanky-Swank product, and when you see someone else wearing Other Brand you can start talking about how your sister wore that brand one time and it made her face break out in hives and she went crazy, got fat, and DIED."
The flip side is, of course, you wear Other Brand and someone tells you about how their sister broke out in hives, went crazy, gained weight, and died. You suddenly get very defensive because you've used Other Brand for years and you love it! HAVE YOU EVER READ A COMMENT THREAD.
We do that. We project. We have valuable life experiences that help us grow and mature, but then we turn around and extrapolate them to the entire human population. All the while telling ourselves that every person is special and different (specifically, that I am special and different).
Apart from our own valuable life experiences, we'll hear a story. And then we'll hear that same story somewhere else. Pretty soon you have a stereotype, a common story that many people share. We heard several of them from people we know and trust and identify with, so it solidifies in our minds.
Then we hear a different story. A story with a different ending, with a different middle, with a different beginning. We feel that our selves, our friends, our loved ones, our intellects have been attacked. We run to defend what we KNOW is right. After all, I'm special and different, I'm the one who's going to explain my side because my special and different mind has all the right answers. HAVE YOU EVER READ A COMMENT THREAD.
I think the problem here is that we don't see stories as stories. We don't want stories, we want answers. We want to know what to do. We want to tell people what to do. But all the while saying, "Everyone is different. Be yourself. Express yourself."
But express yourself in the way that I understand you need to express yourself.
Here's a TED Talk. (Everybody loves a good TED Talk, right?)
The Danger of a Single Story
Some of you already understand why I'm writing this. My fiancé and I recently shared our story about our relationship and Ethan's same-sex attraction.
Here's that for you if you like:
Voices of Hope: Ethan and Allison
Comment threads happened. Albeit, more respectful than typical internet threads, people have heated opinions.
When I started writing this post, I was writing to address some of the concerns that people who think we're making a mistake had. Because my experiences and the stories I've heard lead to a different end than the experiences and stories others have. I quickly realized that explaining my side of things isn't the only problem. Everyone knows that no matter how much you explain yourself, people are not likely to change their opinion. But there's this pent-up energy to defend what you know is right for you.
Of course I want people to change their minds and agree with me. But I've realized that what I want and can actually have is for people to simply accept that my story is mine. My first step in that has been accepting that their stories are valid. That my story isn't the one and only reality.
Am I still going to write about my side of things? Absolutely, that's part of my story and there are people with sincere questions that I'd love to answer.
But why do that when my story isn't the one and only reality? Well, it's a part of reality. And while everyone is different and special, people have many things in common also. Just like there isn't one single story of a place or type of person, all the stories aren't unique, either. There are intersections and loops and turns and crashes and confusing Yahoo! Maps directions. People still need to hear the things that are similar. People need to know that they aren't alone.
We didn't do Voices of Hope to tell all gay men to marry women—that's absurd. We did Voices of Hope because we have made a decision and want to share our story. We did it to connect with other people who want something similar. Someone who listens to our story, sees one way it intersects with their story and knows that they aren't alone. So we can share ideas and build on each other and figure out what the heck it is we want out of this life.
I am sorry about the not-so-good stories that have been shared with us. Those are real, painful experiences that are completely valid. But I see the similarities, and I see the differences. Please don't try to shove it down my throat as the one reality for mixed-orientation marriages. It's a part of the reality of mixed-orientation marriages, but it's not the whole reality.
My story will keep going and not just about this one topic. I will keep exploring my relationship with a man who's into dudes. I'll keep trying (and probably failing) at cooking. I'll keep laughing and tripping and falling and hurting myself. And I'll keep sharing.
"Wear Swanky-Swank product, and when you see someone else wearing Other Brand you can start talking about how your sister wore that brand one time and it made her face break out in hives and she went crazy, got fat, and DIED."
The flip side is, of course, you wear Other Brand and someone tells you about how their sister broke out in hives, went crazy, gained weight, and died. You suddenly get very defensive because you've used Other Brand for years and you love it! HAVE YOU EVER READ A COMMENT THREAD.
We do that. We project. We have valuable life experiences that help us grow and mature, but then we turn around and extrapolate them to the entire human population. All the while telling ourselves that every person is special and different (specifically, that I am special and different).
Apart from our own valuable life experiences, we'll hear a story. And then we'll hear that same story somewhere else. Pretty soon you have a stereotype, a common story that many people share. We heard several of them from people we know and trust and identify with, so it solidifies in our minds.
Then we hear a different story. A story with a different ending, with a different middle, with a different beginning. We feel that our selves, our friends, our loved ones, our intellects have been attacked. We run to defend what we KNOW is right. After all, I'm special and different, I'm the one who's going to explain my side because my special and different mind has all the right answers. HAVE YOU EVER READ A COMMENT THREAD.
I think the problem here is that we don't see stories as stories. We don't want stories, we want answers. We want to know what to do. We want to tell people what to do. But all the while saying, "Everyone is different. Be yourself. Express yourself."
But express yourself in the way that I understand you need to express yourself.
Here's a TED Talk. (Everybody loves a good TED Talk, right?)
The Danger of a Single Story
Some of you already understand why I'm writing this. My fiancé and I recently shared our story about our relationship and Ethan's same-sex attraction.
Here's that for you if you like:
Voices of Hope: Ethan and Allison
Comment threads happened. Albeit, more respectful than typical internet threads, people have heated opinions.
When I started writing this post, I was writing to address some of the concerns that people who think we're making a mistake had. Because my experiences and the stories I've heard lead to a different end than the experiences and stories others have. I quickly realized that explaining my side of things isn't the only problem. Everyone knows that no matter how much you explain yourself, people are not likely to change their opinion. But there's this pent-up energy to defend what you know is right for you.
Of course I want people to change their minds and agree with me. But I've realized that what I want and can actually have is for people to simply accept that my story is mine. My first step in that has been accepting that their stories are valid. That my story isn't the one and only reality.
Am I still going to write about my side of things? Absolutely, that's part of my story and there are people with sincere questions that I'd love to answer.
But why do that when my story isn't the one and only reality? Well, it's a part of reality. And while everyone is different and special, people have many things in common also. Just like there isn't one single story of a place or type of person, all the stories aren't unique, either. There are intersections and loops and turns and crashes and confusing Yahoo! Maps directions. People still need to hear the things that are similar. People need to know that they aren't alone.
We didn't do Voices of Hope to tell all gay men to marry women—that's absurd. We did Voices of Hope because we have made a decision and want to share our story. We did it to connect with other people who want something similar. Someone who listens to our story, sees one way it intersects with their story and knows that they aren't alone. So we can share ideas and build on each other and figure out what the heck it is we want out of this life.
I am sorry about the not-so-good stories that have been shared with us. Those are real, painful experiences that are completely valid. But I see the similarities, and I see the differences. Please don't try to shove it down my throat as the one reality for mixed-orientation marriages. It's a part of the reality of mixed-orientation marriages, but it's not the whole reality.
My story will keep going and not just about this one topic. I will keep exploring my relationship with a man who's into dudes. I'll keep trying (and probably failing) at cooking. I'll keep laughing and tripping and falling and hurting myself. And I'll keep sharing.
I'm in Love. Part 2 (Actually this is a weird transition post)
Sometimes, people think of being in a relationship like this:
And they think that if the relationship is "meant to be" then you won't have problems. If you have problems, it's taken as a sign that it just wasn't "meant to be".
I think that's utter nonsense.
Relationships are more like this:
...
This is what I had done for this post a couple of months ago. This is also where I think this blog might become something different. I'm still the derpy girl who can't bake and likes to draw and injures herself on a regular basis, freaking out and laughing all along the way, but I'm getting involved in things that I feel are very important. I've tried to work on this post several times and it's just not happening, so I'm going to do something else with it. It's my blog, I'm going to do whatever I want with it. OKAY LET'S GOOOOO!!!
And they think that if the relationship is "meant to be" then you won't have problems. If you have problems, it's taken as a sign that it just wasn't "meant to be".
I think that's utter nonsense.
Relationships are more like this:
...
This is what I had done for this post a couple of months ago. This is also where I think this blog might become something different. I'm still the derpy girl who can't bake and likes to draw and injures herself on a regular basis, freaking out and laughing all along the way, but I'm getting involved in things that I feel are very important. I've tried to work on this post several times and it's just not happening, so I'm going to do something else with it. It's my blog, I'm going to do whatever I want with it. OKAY LET'S GOOOOO!!!
Saturday, July 19, 2014
I'm in Love. Part 1.
I never believed I'd end up alone. I mean, dating is hard and totally sucks, but I figured I'd get married eventually. Even so, I'm aware that I'm a weird person.
I always thought I'd have to give up an amount of my weirdness when I found someone I wanted to be with forever. And I was okay with that! After all, who could possibly keep up with me? Who could enter the deep, incoherent recesses of my messed-up brain and come out to say something like, "Yeah, the way you personify inanimate objects and then laugh uncontrollably at them for no reason makes me think I want you to be the mother of my children."
If such a person did exist, I'd probably question their ability to function as a member of society. I figured I best keep my weirdness partially under wraps so as to appear attractive to those responsible men I deemed should fall in love with me.
Surprisingly, my strategy of hiding a part of myself for the purpose of establishing a connection with another human being failed.
These repeated failures sent me on a self-esteem adventure! (I got depressed.)
The last few posts on this blog are from this era, and I don't want to get into it, so, yeah.
The important part is that I found what I needed to do and emerged from the cocoon of blankets I wrapped myself in during Netflix-and-ice-cream binges ready to be happy and single for as long as necessary.
My mind was in a significantly healthier state, but I still didn't think I'd find a guy as weird as me. I wasn't sure I wanted a guy as weird as ME.
"Challenge accepted," said the universe.
This is Ethan. (He actually has a beard, and it's super hot, but I don't put forth that much effort in these drawings.)
Weirdness isn't his only quality. After my terrible co-dependent relationship ended, I realized what I needed in a partner to have an actual healthy relationship. And Ethan is all of that for me. I didn't know how perfectly awesome he was when we first met. It wasn't like this happened:
...
But not instantly! Really! Our first date was meh. I was particularly NOT excited when he asked me out.
In The Fault in Our Stars, John Green writes that Hazel Grace fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly, and then all at once.
I don't fall in love like that. I fall in love the way you get a cold.
And then you're in denial about it. Haha, as if you have a choice.
Then you panic because you feel it coming on. You know you're not sick yet, but you also know there's nothing you can do about it.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment I realized I loved him. There was just a period of time where I knew I was on my way there. I knew it was happening, I just didn't know how fast I was headed toward it.
I always thought I'd have to give up an amount of my weirdness when I found someone I wanted to be with forever. And I was okay with that! After all, who could possibly keep up with me? Who could enter the deep, incoherent recesses of my messed-up brain and come out to say something like, "Yeah, the way you personify inanimate objects and then laugh uncontrollably at them for no reason makes me think I want you to be the mother of my children."
If such a person did exist, I'd probably question their ability to function as a member of society. I figured I best keep my weirdness partially under wraps so as to appear attractive to those responsible men I deemed should fall in love with me.
Surprisingly, my strategy of hiding a part of myself for the purpose of establishing a connection with another human being failed.
These repeated failures sent me on a self-esteem adventure! (I got depressed.)
The last few posts on this blog are from this era, and I don't want to get into it, so, yeah.
The important part is that I found what I needed to do and emerged from the cocoon of blankets I wrapped myself in during Netflix-and-ice-cream binges ready to be happy and single for as long as necessary.
My mind was in a significantly healthier state, but I still didn't think I'd find a guy as weird as me. I wasn't sure I wanted a guy as weird as ME.
"Challenge accepted," said the universe.
This is Ethan. (He actually has a beard, and it's super hot, but I don't put forth that much effort in these drawings.)
Weirdness isn't his only quality. After my terrible co-dependent relationship ended, I realized what I needed in a partner to have an actual healthy relationship. And Ethan is all of that for me. I didn't know how perfectly awesome he was when we first met. It wasn't like this happened:
...
But not instantly! Really! Our first date was meh. I was particularly NOT excited when he asked me out.
In The Fault in Our Stars, John Green writes that Hazel Grace fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly, and then all at once.
I don't fall in love like that. I fall in love the way you get a cold.
And then you're in denial about it. Haha, as if you have a choice.
Then you panic because you feel it coming on. You know you're not sick yet, but you also know there's nothing you can do about it.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment I realized I loved him. There was just a period of time where I knew I was on my way there. I knew it was happening, I just didn't know how fast I was headed toward it.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
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