Who Tapped Into My Brain and Wrote This Letter?
This is a portion of a letter to Cary Tennis in Salon that I could have written, many times, in the two years since I turned 28:
"On paper I want the whole family thing: husband, house, kids and a dog. I also realize that while 28 is not exactly old, it is probably a good time to start approaching relationships and life choices more seriously....I identify closely with the meticulously cultivated hipster life I have worked at achieving over the last 10 years. It is full of poet and musician friends, seeing new bands and obscure movies, and going to gallery openings.
"When I am faced with a decent man with a decent job I imagine his khaki pants might get off the floor at night and bind my wrists, forcing me to march lock step into a subdivision full of minivans where I will never buy a new CD again. At the same time I look at my friends' attractive, witty and well-read boyfriends and wonder why a woman in her late 20s would cohabit with a man whose career entails working in a coffee shop 20 hours a week and riding a skateboard to get there. I mean, what are they thinking? And then I remember that I am not exactly in a position to dole out advice."
The whole idea of "people in khakis suck, people with nose rings are awesome" is totally cliche and I don't buy into that part of it. But I think the overarching theme is that while the idea of commitment and love might seem appealing, the reality of it scares the shit out of you. Or, in this case, me.
Awesome.
I'm trying to get to the point where that's not true anymore, but what I'm wondering is this: Am I freaked out because I don't want to be with the wrong person and these are my sixth senses, or whatever, telling me that this guy or that guy isn't right? Or am I freaked out because I had a bad experience, and I'm not healed enough yet? Or, am I freaked out because I just don't want anyone to really know who I am, and therefore won't give anyone a chance?
Maybe I should go back to my crappy therapist and see if he can clue me in. Ha.
"On paper I want the whole family thing: husband, house, kids and a dog. I also realize that while 28 is not exactly old, it is probably a good time to start approaching relationships and life choices more seriously....I identify closely with the meticulously cultivated hipster life I have worked at achieving over the last 10 years. It is full of poet and musician friends, seeing new bands and obscure movies, and going to gallery openings.
"When I am faced with a decent man with a decent job I imagine his khaki pants might get off the floor at night and bind my wrists, forcing me to march lock step into a subdivision full of minivans where I will never buy a new CD again. At the same time I look at my friends' attractive, witty and well-read boyfriends and wonder why a woman in her late 20s would cohabit with a man whose career entails working in a coffee shop 20 hours a week and riding a skateboard to get there. I mean, what are they thinking? And then I remember that I am not exactly in a position to dole out advice."
The whole idea of "people in khakis suck, people with nose rings are awesome" is totally cliche and I don't buy into that part of it. But I think the overarching theme is that while the idea of commitment and love might seem appealing, the reality of it scares the shit out of you. Or, in this case, me.
Awesome.
I'm trying to get to the point where that's not true anymore, but what I'm wondering is this: Am I freaked out because I don't want to be with the wrong person and these are my sixth senses, or whatever, telling me that this guy or that guy isn't right? Or am I freaked out because I had a bad experience, and I'm not healed enough yet? Or, am I freaked out because I just don't want anyone to really know who I am, and therefore won't give anyone a chance?
Maybe I should go back to my crappy therapist and see if he can clue me in. Ha.
posted by Had To Move at 4:48 PM
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