The other day a younger friend, a woman in her twenties, called to share news of her engagement. She's been dating a great-seeming guy for about a year, and she sounded exuberant, glowing, over the moon. "Congratulations, Eleanor! I'm so happy for you." Yadda, yadda, yadda, and we wrapped up the call.
The truth is, as a divorced woman in her forties, it's hard for me to get excited about anyone's impending nuptials. Very hard to pretend the divorce and adultery statistics don't exist, to push into the background my own painful memories of marital discord, the tedium and pain of having the same fights over and over again, the feeling of being unloved and trapped. What I mostly feel for Eleanor and others like her is a jaded sense of "Good luck dear. I've been there. Enjoy the good parts and take care of yourself when it's bad. And try to have some sort of long-term back-up plan."
So hideously cynical! I'm sorry! Blame it on the years. I mean, I can see why people still get married: when you're in your 20s or 30s you have all of that ahead of you. It's what's expected, what seems inevitable, right, necessary. You want to make a home with someone, develop traditions, have children together. You're wildly in love and know, or at least hope, that your marriage will be different, and maybe, God-willing, it will be. And I'm not immune to the fantasy or the almost delusional Darwinian pull: I too am looking forward to grandchildren and even being the mother-of-the-bride one day.
But from where I sit, post-divorce and quite contentedly sharing our growing kids with my ex, free and in charge of my own life, it's exceedingly hard to wrap my head around the logic of (re)matrimony.
According to the 2007 US Census, for those 25 and older, 52 percent of men and only 44 percent of women are likely to remarry after death or divorce. The New York Times analyzed the data and reported that for the first time in recorded history, more women are living without a husband than with one. 2007 was the year I got divorced, and at the time I read those stats as proof that I'd be alone forever, that midlife dating would be a barren field. Now, in my own Divorce Afterlife, I have a diametrically different understanding of those numbers. It's not for lack of willing and available men! Duh! Women don't remarry as often because we're not sure why we should, what's in it for us.
Most men require a lot of care. They want to be fed; they require copious dry cleaning; they're physically large and take up space; they demand attention in ways large and small. All these things are well and good, and I'm often happy to do my part. But why would I sign myself up to have to do it, 24/7? Sex on demand is a beautiful thing, but having the bed to oneself sometimes is equally a treat. Once the kids are old enough to go out and get around on their own, the feeling of liberation is pure bliss. Being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want, in your own home! People have fought wars for less. Do you really want to give that up?
The exception, and it's a big one, is financial stability. If you can't support yourself alone, or you crave a better lifestyle than you can afford solo, I can see why you might try to hook up and marry someone who could ease the burden. I just hope you really love him, because the numbers aren't on your side. A whopping 60% of second marriages fail, and if there are step-children involved, that stat goes up to 70%. How could this not give a sane person pause?
I've been surveying girlfriends on this subject, and 14 out of 15 of my married friends, all women over 40, look mortified when I tell them that the subject of marriage has been raised in my current relationship. "No! Don't do it!" is the swift cry. After that they all say "Why? What for? Isn't it perfect as is? Living apart, seeing him when you want to? What could be better?" One women at a recent dinner party, married for sixteen years, told me that if she were to find herself single again, not only would she not remarry, she wouldn't ever have another relationship again! This shocked even me. She said it's just too hard; she'd rather just find men to occasionally sleep with. The 15th friend, Louisa, the only exception, seems to mostly like the comfort of marriage and wants the same for me. God bless her.
Ok, so, the pros? Comfort. Stability. Not having to go on Match.com. The Promise of Enduring Love. These notions all assume that you'll continue to like each other -- a fairly big leap of faith. To have someone with you when you die? He'll probably die first -- men usually do.
I've concluded that for me, the biggest draw lies in the smidgen of chance that I could experience something I've never had before, the old fairy tale that makes youngsters like Eleanor want to get married. Maybe it would be fantastic. Maybe we'd continue to hold each other in the night in this perfect way, resolve our differences with relative ease. Maybe the emotional rewards would trump most discomfort? That he'd be my partner and best friend always? Hmmm.
Then of course, there's the other big factor: the fact that when you're in a relationship, you need to take the other person's feelings into consideration. Men like being married. It may be what he unequivocally wants. Do I want him to leave? No. Do I want him to be happy? Yes. So we may have to compromise. The jury's still out.
My opinion is before a couple can get married, they have to go through intensive counseling for a set amount of time. I am not talking about the premarital counseling in the church like some religions require. I am talking about weekly sessions with a therapist who can help you figure out if you are really compatible. Some people decide to marry because they have similar thngs they like to do and they still have that lust feeling. That isn't going to cut it. You might as well just stay friends.
Someone mentioned age differences. A 20 year old told me he liked dating cougars, like 37 years old. HA
In general, I'd have to agree. Lots of men seem grumpy to me from about 60 on. It must be just a difference in responsibilities, etc. The women are having a blast. The men are complaining and seem over-retired.
though, without exception (& maybe it's due to living in MN?) men my age are either still
married, horribly out of shape, or - if single & fit -only interested in much younger women.
Why? Because they can be. And because appearance is a higher priority to them than
substance.
You pretty much nailed it.
To all those men who think (not all men, just the ones who think like this) that your dating pool is sooooo big, well, maybe some of you are fooling yourselves. Because when I was 27 before I met my ex-husband, I had all kinds of 40 yr olds hitting on me, staring at me when I was out and trying to get with me. Are you kidding? I had a good job, was going to college so I wasn't looking for a "sugar daddy". I could take care of myself. And frankly, the idea for getting romantic with someone 10 years younger than my own parents grossed me out. REALLY grossed me out. My ex-husband is a year younger than me.
So for all you men who think the younger gals are possibilities for you, you may want to think again.
Take that!
In their dreams. *haha
Don't 'YOU' see male bashing everywhere?
I well up at a wedding, filled to the brim with happiness and hope. I remember my wedding, looking into my husbands eyes and, if he's at the wedding with him, we give each other a look filled with even more love than we had on our wedding day.
When I hear someone is getting married, it delights me because I always expect that they will have what I have had for the past 31 years...
Of course, the men I know are more caring than in need of care and I'm very free and in charge of my own life
If I had to do it all over again, with this man and my two children, I'd do it again without thought. Remarrying... I can't imagine getting over the devastation of losing my love so it's hard to consider it but if I were in a position to marry someone as wonderful as my husband is, I'd do it.
My sisters all have men I couldn't be married to for a minute but they are perfect men for my sisters and they are all in equally long and equally happy marriages and most of my friends are in happy marriages so if I had a similar discussion with my friends and family, it would have a very different outcome than yours did.
The fightingstarted when I was about 2, continued through the divorce when I was 5, and then continued for years. Perhaps I was in high school by the time the acrimonylessened to a muted form. By that time I'd learned not to marry and not to procreate.
I'm 33 now, wealthy, accomplished, and living the dream. I'm a sociologist, and that means I study people who marry and don't marry, and the reasons why or why not. It's old hat, really, but I'm quite qualified for the job!
What's truly awesome about being me is that all I had to do was watch my parents in order to see what not to do, enroute to ending up in a far better place at the age of 33 than they ever achieved. The secret is to be very judicious, deliberate, and know how to get the most out of it when you're fortunate to have it. Oh, and invest in good quality toys!
I'm in the midst of raising three sons and I wouldn't trade this so called "burden" for all the money and supermodels in the universe.
But I know that's simply platitudinous. It was a lot of work, truthfully. Hard, dirtywork.
"And quite frankly, men in my age group, for the most part, are balding, fat....' my mother said the same thing after my stepdad died. No wonder she stayed single until she died ten years later.