the question of marriage
April 25, 2014
the subtitle for this post could be:
“idgaf if i contradict myself”
so. my bf was asking me the other day whether or not i still wanted to get married. this is something we’ve already discussed, so i was like “why are you asking me this again?” and he thought maybe my feelings have changed. they haven’t.
yes. i want to get married.
he remarked that it was weird that i did (he doesn’t) because most of the ppl he knows with radical type politics/views/whatever you want to call it don’t believe in marriage. or at least they don’t believe in marriage as is.
i’m super familiar with all of the reasons why marriage, as institution, is shitty and often oppressive.
i’m even more familiar with my personal history of neglect and abuse. of people saying they’d be there for me and not, you know, actually being there.
marriage, for me, is about my personal feelings of security. not about seeking legitimacy from a settler state, but about being able to tell the child within that this person is for her. about telling her in such a way that maybe she can actually believe it.
he asked my why his word wasn’t enough…
because every single human being that has ever promised, suggested, or claimed to be there for me, wasn’t.
because there is not a single person on this planet that i trust to take care of me other than myself.
because my life has taught me that always holding a little bit back for myself will prevent me a great deal of future pain and heartache
because i’ve learned that relying and trusting other people leads to disaster
because i know that when promises to me are made, they are made to be broken.
because in all the times of my life when i really, really really needed someone, i’ve been alone
because i’ve always been alone
because i’ll always be alone
because all the people who’ve said ‘i love you’ were liars or they loved me but just not enough or their version of love was toxic, controlling, and abusive
because maybe in 30 years, if we’re still together, i might be able to trust your word on this
but that means it’ll be 30 years of a small part
of me waiting for you to leave
of me ensuring that i have a contingency plan for when you do1
of me never really relying on you to emotionally support me
of me waiting until i’m alone or in the shower to cry (instead of on your shoulder)
so, yes, i do want to get married.
and it is okay that we won’t.
one lesson i’ve learned well
is making do with what i have and never wishing for more