Interesting article on relationships

[mamagotcha]

I found myself nodding and agreeing out loud to several parts of this article on "Why Marriages Fail." So I thought I'd share it with you all, and see if you have any reactions.

I think that, due to some loving ass-kicking by several dear friends after my first marriage ended, along with just being incredibly lucky to land an amazing person for a partner for my second, I learned a lot about how NOT to be a rotten spouse. We'll celebrate ten years of Bob this fall... we must be doing something right.

Thanks to klwalton for the link.

Comments

[uncanny-npl.livejournal.com]

"Ten years of Bob"--it sounds cozy, and I don't even know the guy!

I have "twenty-three years of Henry" coming up in August, and that doesn't include the five years we lived together before getting married.

We married for a lot of wrong reasons, and a few right ones (which I'll get to in a minute). One thing in the article that hit home with me is the idea that many women (and some men) are afraid *not* to be married, at least after a certain age. Henry and I were 27 when we got married, which to me felt like a over-ripe old age. (Ridiculous, I know.) Plus, while he at least had plans for his future--get the Ph.D, get a job teaching college English--I really had nothing in mind at all, except that I wanted, one way or another, to keep writing. (I hadn't even planned to go to *college* until my high school counselor gave me such a dropped-jawed look that I realized I was simply *expected* to go.) I ended up getting a B.A., an M.A., and part of a Ph.D just because Henry was still going to school, too, and I figured I might as well tag along. (I'm pretty sure I'd have a Ph.D too now if Virginia Tech hadn't offered me a teaching job in the middle of it all. Hell, I'd probably *still* be in school if not for that, plus the babies.)

I won't go into all the details here, but the first seventeen years or so of our marriage were pretty awful. It took me a long long time to realize both that I didn't have to tolerate his tacit dissatisfaction with not exactly "me" but sort of with the *idea* of me (I usually summarize the situation by saying that he thought of me as his "first wife"), and also that it wasn't reasonable to think that he should be the one fulfilling all my endless longing for love, affirmation, etc. Finally, on the verge of calling an end to the thing, I took charge of myself, which kind of forced him both to take charge of himself and to stop taking me for granted. We did a *lot* of hard work together, with the help of a blessedly smart couples therapist, and we came out of it scathed but reborn. (Not that everything's perfect now--just that we're partners, a team, a really great couple. Till death do us part, so far as anyone can see from here.)

Luckily we still had those "right reasons" for getting married that we'd started with. We're best friends--he's as close to a "soulmate" as I've ever had, or felt the potential of having, in any other man. All the more so because we've been, almost literally, through hell together.

So life's good, and your article reminded me of that, as well as of the pitfalls we still have to watch out for. That line about couples who don't fight eventually not having sex either--that cut me to the quick, I'll tell you. I'll simply have to start picking more fights with him, I guess.

Anyway, thanks for sharing. There's a line in "My Dinner with Andre"--haven't seen that movie since it first came out (alas), so I can't remember how the line goes, exactly--where Andre says that while a lot of people think it a challenge or thrill or adventure to meet a new person and explore the risks and possibilities involved, he thinks the biggest adventure of all is living with one person over an entire lifetime. All the changes you both go through, the symbioses and the conflicts, the deep acceptance you have to reach, the colossal vulnerability of being that well *known* by someone else. (Hmm, not sure if *he* said all this, or if I'm adding stuff. Either way, it was his idea first.) That pretty much sums up the way I feel, too. So here's to me and Hank, and to you and Bob, as the adventure continues.

[mamagotcha.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry I haven't responded to this earlier. I wanted to thank you, Uncanny, for sharing the story of your partnership. It sounds a bit like my path in some ways, except for the smart couples counselor part and everything after that. So after our degrees and babies and 16 years (we started at 17, married at 21), I really WAS the "first wife."

Now I'm another first wife, and intend to stick with this position. By the way, Bob's not Darwin's handle, that's Bill. One day way back at the beginning, I lamented that "relationship" was so danged long, and when we were talking about it, I wished there was a shorter word for it. Bill said, "How about 'Bob'?" and so our relationship's name is Bob. We really do regard him as an entity all on his own, and check in with each other by saying, "How's Bob doing?" Our wedding invitations had a lovely ambigram of "Yay, Bob" that Dart made for us on them. We celebrate Bob Day each month on the 17th (Bob came into being on Sept. 17, 1999).

I love that thought from "Andre" (still haven't seen it... really should). Thanks and good luck with those fights!

[uncanny-npl.livejournal.com]

Oh, yes, I should have known that Bill was Bill and not Bob. Sorry about that. Wish I'd thought of giving my relationship with Henry a name--wonder if I'll steal that idea now...

By the way, since I seem to have entered in the middle of your lovely but complicated movie, maybe you could give me a synopsis sometime of parts I've missed. So far I've been piecing it together--I know the names of your kids, for instance, but sometimes I get their ages and birth order mixed up. And the places you've lived, and where your family's scattered... Please, if you ever have time in your frantic, ever-changing life these days, could you maybe give me a brief timeline? Not *necessary*, of course, because I get the gist, but I would enjoy having the additional perspective. No hurry, though. You'll be at the convention, right? Maybe, at the bar some night, you can draw me up a chart?

[mamagotcha.livejournal.com]

Oh, honey, even *I* can't keep track of them. For instance, up there, I swapped Bill's nom with Linc's (Bill is Fork, Linc is Darwin).

I'm gonna type this up now, because I want that bar conversation to involve much more interesting things than boring ol' facts.

May 31, 1963: I arrive as the first of three kids (within four years) to my parents (who are still married), San Francisco. Was briefly homeschooled during the SF desegregation/bussing riots.

1970-ish: Move to Pacifica (SF suburb; we lived less than a quarter mile from the beach... looking back, I think we were probably one of the first waves of "white flight"). Was in and out of an alternative school due to age... they didn't always have my grade level available.

1979: Move to Penngrove (in Sonoma County) in my sophomore year of high school. Raise goats and rabbits for 4-H, learn to juggle, work on school newspaper. Graduate in 1981 and piddle around at Santa Rosa Junior College, play D&D, tutor math, meet Jeff.

1984: We both transfer to UC Davis, I start hanging out with the newspaper and tie-dye crowds. Work through school as a writer, editor, layout drudge, typesetter and copy camera operator.

1986: Marry Jeff.

1988: Have Cordell, co-chair a huge 3-day music/art festival, graduate with a major in art studio and a minor in English, get a p/t job as assistant manager of the Davis Farmers Market.

1990: Julia born, become stay-at-home mom while Jeff finished his Master's degree. Become homebirth and homeschooling advocate, also start doula work and freelance editing for magazines, and a ren faire braiding business.

1991: I run the annual convention for the California Association of Midwives, because apparently I'm not busy enough. I wind up in small claims court twice, both times not my idea, both times I win.

1994: Clayton born, Jeff working for company 70 miles away and living there 4 nights a week. Beginning of the end of the marriage, although we first buy a house so it would be even more complicated.

1998: Volunteer editor for local muckracker rag in addition to freelance, doula, midwifery advocacy, homeschooling, and braiding work. Dear friend suffers term stillbirth with first child. I have my first (and so far, only) attack of shingles, which leads to a wee little breakdown; begin anti-depression meds. Train as a massage therapist.

1999: Jeff moves out in March, two weeks before our 13th wedding anniversary, divorce proceeds. I am hired as a daily newspaper associate editor, two kids in Waldorf school and oldest doing independent study, lost 50 lbs, have wild summer of travel and adventure (in which you, my dear Uncanny, play an integral part!). Bob comes into being Sept. 17, 1999, as Bill was working on his PhD in biology at UCD.

2000: Bill moves in, so I can cut back to part-time with editor job and homeschool kids again. Bill and I create the Damento Juggling Festival and run it for three years. Still doing massage, freelance, braid and doula work.

2001: Accidental pregnancy ends in m/c.

2003: Bill gets KC job offer, another miscarriage sends me into second foray with Paxil, I sell house and buy KC house, Jeff files for full custody of all three kids (four months AFTER approving our move to KC), nasty and expensive court battle ensues (which I eventually win and which confirms that the kids are thriving as homeschoolers), we move into temporary 2-bd apartment with all three kids, Bill graduates, we get married and throw huge wedding/goodbye party, I have my first (and so far, only) panic attack, Bill moves to KC, two weeks later Jeff drops his objection to me taking kids over state lines and we finally follow Bill, I find myself once again pregnant (yep... that year was a doozy!)

2004: Linc is born. Julia and I have a pretty hard year.

2005: Kids and I take four-week road trip. Bill and I volunteer to run an international juggling festival in Portland, OR.

Currently, Cordell is 21 and in the final months of a year in Japan, and will join us in Chicago; Julia is 18 and in her junior year at Clark; Clay is 15 and living at home; and Linc is 4 (for the record, Bill's 35 and I'm 45).

And that's probably far more than you ever wanted to know! Any chance I could get a similar synopsis for your own fascinating movie?

[uncanny-npl.livejournal.com]

Wow! What a life! (And that's only Act I!) Thanks for laying it out for me. So, when I first met you, you were really in transition, weren't you--settling your divorce, and only a month or two away from meeting Bill. Interesting. So many ups and downs over your years, so many achievements, setbacks, missteps, triumphs--and always, always the plunging into life, again and again. You've done well by yourself, I'd say. Traveled a meaningful path even when you had no idea where you were headed. So far, so good!

Here's me:

Sept. 26, 1958: I enter the world, the seventh of nine children. My brothers and sisters are definitely the best thing my mom and dad ever gave me. We all sort of raised each other--mostly they raised me. My parents, in contrast, seemed sort of peripheral. They stayed married until my dad died in 1986. My mom, now 90, lives in an assisted-living place in Colorado Springs. She's still pretty healthy and she's almost always cheerful, at least around me. I get along well with her--the best of any of us--mostly because they haven't quite given up on her, whereas I have. They still long for something from her--some sign that they matter, that they even exist as individual people, in her eyes. Probably I long for that too, deep down, but I know I'll never get it, so I never, ever ask.

1977-1986: I go to college, drop out after two years, drift, almost get married to a very nice guy named Bob, sleep around a bit, don't take nearly enough illegal drugs, work some pretty fun part-time jobs (afternoon shift at a Fotomat, activities assistant at a nursing home, live-in caseworker at a group home for retarded women...), go back to college. I meet Henry in a creative writing workshop in the fall of 1981--he comes to the University of Denver to get his Master's degree at the same time I come back for my junior undergraduate year. I live with Henry for about five years before I finally drag him into marriage.

1986: I marry Henry, get a fulltime teaching job at Virginia Tech, move to Virginia, far from family for the first time in my life (and I've lived far from them ever since, which still sends a pang of grief through me sometimes). My dad dies in November, and despite (or because of?) the lack of a real relationship between us, I mourn that loss deeply for at least a year.

1988: Hannah is born. She quickly becomes the center of my universe. She and I become so bonded in the next three years that it's like we inhabit the same skin. She never sleeps, so I don't either--the two of us live in a hallucinatory trance. Henry remains on the periphery of our lives--keeps saying he needs to "get used to it."

1991: Hannah's diagnosed with autism. There were plenty of signs, but I had absolutely no clue, and I'll spend the rest of her life wondering if I ever really knew her at all. At some point during the next several years, I will also realize that if I can live through this, I can live through anything.

1993: Becky's born. (Just typing that fills me with gratitude and awe.) No matter how hard the rest of life gets, she will always be my saving grace.

1994-2005: Hard years for Hannah, getting steadily harder as she gets stronger and bigger, and thus more able to hurt herself and others. I handle it all amazingly--sort of preternaturally--well until finally, around 2002 I guess, I fall apart. Sort of. I still go on, but other people--teachers, caseworkers, even Henry (at last, Henry!)--step in to help.

August, 2005: While Henry, Becky and I are vacationing in New York--on a night when I'm up in Pleasantville, sleeping in Will's arms (Will being the guy who has consistently offered me soothing refuge ever since the diagnosis)--back in Montana Hannah dies. We come to believe she must have had an epileptic seizure as she slept.

2005-now: Not sure--kind of a foggy time. Bit by bit, I seem to be re-entering the world, which is very different now from the way I knew it before. As I continue feeling my way around, I'll be sure to keep you posted about my progress.

[mamagotcha.livejournal.com]

I love you and your life and your stories! Thank you, thank you for sharing them with me.

By the way... are you OK with this being posted publicly? I can screen it if you'd prefer.

[uncanny-npl.livejournal.com]

No screen necessary--I know I seem demure, but I'm an exhibitionist at heart.

Great sharing with you, back and forth. Thanks so much.

[mh75.livejournal.com]

did you get something out of this about how to protect your current marriage?
I guess it seemed to me as though it was reasons for failure (some present from the beginning), but not as much ways to prevent failure.

(mmm... i agree about having to know how to fight. Its something J and I have worked on a lot. I probably also agree about seeking help earlier, although this is not entirely under my control, and a tough sell.)

What have you learned?

[mamagotcha.livejournal.com]

I felt it was mostly affirming things I learned from the first marriage and have worked on in the second, most specifically about communicating. Thank goodness, they seem to be working... I feel like my partnership with Bill is really doing well, despite the shit we're currently wallowing in. This is a very good thing... there's no freakin' way I'd still be here in KC if it wasn't true!