“How are you?” I asked.
“Well,” she paused smiling, “I’m married and I have two little girls.”
It came out like, “Well, I won a Pulitzer, and then two Nobels.”
And in that moment, I was genuinely happy for her, because who wouldn’t be happy for someone who thought they’d hung the moon?
The woman is also an in-house counsel at a large company, but didn’t mention that until I asked. I thought it was odd because, well, as a woman, it’s relatively easy to get married and have babies if you so desire,[1] but much harder to achieve the status of in-house counsel. At the end of our meeting, she passed me her card and told me to give her a call because I’d expressed an interest in the area of law she practiced.
“Are you going to call her?” my mother asked when I recounted the story.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I don’t know if I can sit through an hour of being looked down-upon in hopes that I might find some good advice.”
Nearly since birth I’ve proclaimed that I had no desire for a spouse or children. Most people responded with a look that indicated I protested too much. Surely, I was just bitter at my lack of options. Or perhaps I was closeted sexually and frustrated. Yes, I was cute, intelligent, etc, but the reason I was single, everyone knew, was because of my overbearing, obnoxious personality.
For a period of time, I thought this was true, and yet I still managed to date, still knew men who found me attractive, despite that I once had a t-shirt made which proclaimed, ‘I am not your personal cheerleader.’ However, I always seemed to back away from long-term commitment. Perhaps, I was just meeting the wrong types of men, men who weren’t my equals or men who didn’t meet my expectations. Really, I must want to be married and have children someday! Someday?
And then the moment of truth came, unexpectedly and seemingly out of nowhere. I flew to Breckenridge, Colorado to meet a girlfriend and help her prepare the week before her wedding. We dropped off gifts for the house party at the various hotels, put together last minute centerpieces for the reception, and I was perfectly happy. Then, two days before the wedding, I accompanied her and her fiancé to the county clerk for their marriage license. As the clerk handed my girlfriend the information she needed to contact Social Security about a name change I asked, “You’re not going to change your name are you?”
“Yes. Of course!” she answered.
“But,” I stammered, “You’re not really going to drop it completely though? You’re just going to change your maiden name to your middle name, right?”
“No.” she said.
I watched my friend as she filled out the form, carefully writing her mother’s name, her father’s name, her place of birth…
“Ana!” my friend screamed as she bent over me.
Somewhere in all of that I had fainted.
That was the moment I knew for sure that I never, ever wanted to get married.
I proffer no reason for my belief other than that I am always happier when I am uncoupled. There is no great career aspiration that supersedes a biological drive. Break-ups from long relationships always bring a joyous sense of relief for me, a reclamation of my freedom and independence. I see nothing wrong with people who date, marry, and reproduce. I figure that that is what makes them happy.
What I still struggle with however, are the people who so value marriage and children that they will not, cannot, believe that I could want to be without such. Though my close friends understand and respect my beliefs, as I get older, general acquaintances or new introductions often find me staring awkwardly at my shoes when I am addressed with pity or condescension. Some married people won’t even invite me to events because they think I’d be an odd sock in a group matching pairs.
Poor Ana. Poor, poor, Ana.
“I just don’t know if I can stomach it,” I repeated to my mother.
“You know,” she replied, “many of my friends are divorced or have never been married, and they seem to be similar in some capacities. They all have an assortment of really close friends unlike any friendships I’ve ever had.”
“I feel like that!” I said. “I feel like my friends are enough! I never really feel lonely!”
My mother continued, “They take classes in cooking and painting. They attend cultural events and read wonderful books.”
“I love that about my life,” I added.
“They’ve traveled all over the world and live in quiet, cozy bungalows.”
“I can’t wait to have my two bedroom bungalow one day,” I sighed. “I don’t want anything more than 1500 square feet because it would be too much to take care of and a large space often lacks intimacy. See Mom! Can’t you understand why some people would like that type of life?”
“Yes, I can,” she replied, “which is why some days I’m so horribly jealous of them. The path to happiness and fulfillment is different for each individual. Call the woman and when you meet her just smile, and be gracious and feel lucky that you have the courage to live a life that works for you.”
- I'm not saying it's easy to find a spouse that you adore, with whom you have a great relationship, plus wonderful kids, but rather, getting a ring and a baby generally are not that difficult depending on your desires. Despite how wonderful a couple may appear in public, you never really know.
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8 comments:
Could just be that the in-house counsel knows Ana in a personal context and so was trying to keep the conversation on a personal (versus work) level. Many people view their own accomplishments differently (especially if work is stressing them out in the moment), but I don't think that necessarily means they judge everyone by the same yardstick. I would call the IHC, especially if I were really interested in that area of law.
I think it's that Ana does know this person on a personal level and therefore knows how this person would view Ana's situation...which is probably why Ana doesn't keep up with many people from that time period.
But yeah, I called her because I thought it would be silly to not do so.
A few responses as I read through this:
Yes. It sucks when people are condescending and assume their life choices are better than yours. But:
Being thrilled that you have a family doesn't necessarily mean you pity or look down on people who don't. And I don't understand married people or parents who drop their single friends -- if we didn't have childless friends, who would we invite to dinner? Who would I turn to for an entire conversation that never mentions poop?
I would probably have a similar response if I ran into someone I hadn't seen in a long time and they asked me what I had been up to. I'd say, "I got married and I have a kid!" Not because it's the most difficult or impressive thing I've done, but because I see it as the most significant part of my life.
And finally, never say never. I'm not saying this in a "just you wait, you'll change your mind" sort of way, but I just think you never know what will happen and how life might change.
It's great that your mom gets this about you.
Great post.
Few things used to make me sadder/sicker than seeing all the married women MDs and PhDs in my alumni magazine happily staying at home with their schoolaged children.
It was a revulsion that I couldn't really explain: why did it matter to me? It was their time and money and their choice to stay home. I guess I didn't quite understand why someone would such lengths for their career and education only to give it up for good. Now I'm a bit less judgmental, though I can't imagine taking on the full-time mom role for myself after seven years of higher education.
It goes to show that different women can have drastically variant priorities in life, which can swing from the housewife to executive extreme from one decade to the next. Who knows how I'll feel in my 30s?
I have to agree with cm - I'm thrilled with my family, but I don't have any problem with people who don't have one. If I hadn't seen somebody in a while, I'd probably say "I have a baby now" too . . . because it seems like a significant accomplishment. I'd probably also say in that same breath, "I'm in my last year of law school now, too."
Good for you for doing what makes you happy . . . love that you fainted in the marriage certificates office. I wish I'd fainted the day I walked into the law school . . . that would have given me some sense of foreboding of what was to come . . .
I admire my friends who are able to remain childless in the face of a whole society telling them that family is the end all be all. I have two children, whom I love, but it has always been much more my husband's desire to have children than mine. I've always wanted to raise a child, but would have been fine with an adoptee.
At the same time, I also think it is wonderful that there are women who love staying home with their children, despite their PhDs, MBAs and JDs. It's a powerful thing to be able to do exactly what you want to do with your life, regardless of where expectations once laid.
It's only the woman who gives up her career because she was uncomfortable with the childcare options out there (and there are some pretty pathetic childcare options out there. Again not all, and largely dependent on the part of the country/world you live in) and at the same time it was unfathomable that the father would be the stay-at-home parent, even if it made far more economic sense for the mother to work. That is what we should be judging. Not each other for the choices that best reflect our real selves.
I continue to find it tragic that brilliant women with incredible educations throw their careers away to raise a family while their husbands still fulfill their own professional dreams. That's not to say that having a family isn't important; only that if a woman must make a sacrifice to have children then so too should her husband. To expect anything less is to capitulate to society's gender stereotypes.
At this point, neither my fiance nor I want children, but I've made it clear that if such a time comes, he needs to pull his weight. More than his weight, actually-- we've agreed that he would be the primary caregiver. He's far better equipped to be a homemaker than I (he actually LIKES to cook!) and my job pays five times his salary.
Did it REALLY come across like she'd won a Pulizer and Nobel or were you just put off because it wasn't career focused? It sounds like the latter, as if her comment was so out of your world-view that it was like not keeping your maiden name.
Full disclosure - I dropped my maiden name completely too, for 2 reasons 1) I had no relationship with my Dad, my surname wasn't that important to me or my identity at all. 2. I really loved my middle name - why on earth would I drop a pretty feminine middle name for an androgynous boring surname?
I think it is great you're happy as you are. But I think it's TOTALLY understandable she would respond as she did. I would. Mainly because while landing a great inhouse job might be harder professionally, it might not be harder overall, and it might not be anything like as important to you. Unless you do actually value a lifelong partnership and children (and you clearly don't) you couldn't possibly understand how they trump other considerations.
Would you drop everything, including your job, and run to nurse your mother if she suddenly found out she had 2 weeks to live? That's as close as I can get to comparable priority-shifting... I'm sure you WOULD, no matter how much you loved your career. And that's how most mothers feel about their kids and partners. It isn't that we don't value work, but that we value our families more than work.
I love my career and I wouldn't dream of leaving it. But it doesn't give me the warm contentment that seeing my son walk for the first time or seeing my husband at the end of a long day does. I realize you don't get that. I do. But I think you don't get it SO much that you don't even see what the equivalents would be in your life.
You must value something above your job, be it your health, your parents, your friends...something. Try to imagine the tradeoffs being a lot harder than they are for you right now and you'll sound like less of a childish whiner.
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