How to Offend Everyone in One Simple Article
This was so ungodly annoying and offensive that I had to rant about it.
Lori Gottlieb's Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough in the March issue of Atlantic Monthly is the most offensive writing on relationships that I've encountered since The Rules. Not many people can write something that is so thouroughly offensive to both men and women (and, by denial of their very existance, anyone who isn't straight and cisgendered). In fact, the article is so offensive I can barely write coherently about it. What I really want to do is put her child in a good home and sentence her to counseling and ten years community service in a battered spouse's shelter - as a janitor. I wouldn't want her talking to anyone there; they'd kill her.
In this poorly thought out screed, Lori, who has a child via sperm donation, bemoans her lack of a husband, mainly, it seems, because raising a child is hard work. No shit. I'm single, childless, and have no siblings, but I know that. How sheltered do you have to be to not realize that until you actually have a child? Then again, this woman seems to think that sit-coms and romantic movies are a good guide to reality, so I think I can safely say that she wins the sheltered person award.
She also thinks she has psychic powers. She declares that "every woman I know-no matter how successful and ambitious, how financially and emotionally secure-feels panic, occasionally coupled with desperation, if she hits 30 and finds herself unmarried," realizes that there might be some women out there who'd argue and dismisses them with this: "And all I can say is, if you say you’re not worried, either you’re in denial or you’re lying. In fact, take a good look in the mirror and try to convince yourself that you’re not worried, because you’ll see how silly your face looks when you’re being disingenuous."
Say what? She knows that, just because I have a uterus and am over the age of 30, I'm worried about the fact that I'm single. And if I don't think I am, I'm in denial? Really? I couldn't possibly be happily single and happily childless? I can't even assume that she'd dismiss me since I'm, ah, genderqueer or something along those lines, because I really don't think she realizes people like me exist. She'd probably think I was in denial about my femininity, too. I don't even want to know what she thinks of lesbians. I'm sure they're mythical unicorn people to her.
Ignoring the fact that at least 10 percent of women will never, ever, ever, want a man, she goes on to advise people to solve their terrible single status by settling for whatever man next wanders across our path. The basis for this advice is her analysis of the relationships on sit-coms and her theories about what happens if you do marry someone you love ("many of those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with each passing year," she tells us, having, I assume, used the same crystal ball that told her I desperately want a husband and kids). Love, of course, having nothing to do with marriage in her mind, anyway. It's all about finances and an extra pair of hands.
She talks for a bit about women having too high a standards. And, for this part of the article, it's not too gag worthy. I can believe that there are people out there who have a ten-mile long list of qualifications that the man of their dreams absolutely must have. What I can't believe is that many of those people are over 18. Well, other than Lori, herself, who quickly drifts from sensible "settling" (dumping qualifications like unblemished handsomness or height) to serious what the fuckage.
"Take the date I went on last night. The guy was substantially older. He had a long history of major depression and said, in reference to the movies he was writing, “I’m fascinated by comas” and “I have a strong interest in terrorists.” He’d never been married. He was rude to the waiter. But he very much wanted a family, and he was successful, handsome, and smart. As I looked at him from across the table, I thought, Yeah, I’ll see him again. Maybe I can settle for that. But my very next thought was, Maybe I can settle for better. It’s like musical chairs-when do you take a seat, any seat, just so you’re not left standing alone?"
I think there may be some very good reasons why this man has never been married. Not that there aren't good, decent people who struggle with depression, who write scripts about comas and terrorists, or even who are rude to waiters, but all of the above, put together, doesn't leave me with a good feeling. And I'm a mystery writer. But there's an even bigger issue with this. This woman actually looks at marriage as a game of musical chairs. Who the chair is doesn't matter, she just wants one, badly. This offends my belief that people should never be means to ends.
She goes on to talk about all the books out there about snagging a man once you've become an old maid. It's difficult to tell how bad the books are because we're only given them through her distorted vision. One contains "tales of professional, accomplished women happily dating a plumber, a park ranger, and an Army helicopter nurse." According to her "The moral is supposed to be 'Don’t be too picky,'" but I have a feeling the moral is actually supposed to be "don't just look in the usual places," but Lori assumes its about settling, not finding love somewhere other than the executive lounge. Not only is she sheltered, she's a snob.
At this point in the article, she starts whining about how tough it is to be a single mother. A privileged single mother, mind. One who can afford babysitters and online dating services. But the poor dear never gets a night off, like a divorced mother would. A well-off divorced mother who has shared custody with her ex-husband, that is. She really is the most sheltered twit in the world.
Her brief discussion of thirty-something single men doesn't help. "Everyone knows," she reports a single male friend of hers as saying "that a single middle-aged man still has appealing prospects; a single middle-aged woman likely doesn’t. And he’s right." So, single middle-aged men (and when was thirty-something middle aged? Isn't that forties and fifties?) know they're not appealing prospects? Maybe it's just me, but that doesn't seem likely, unless they've got self esteem problems. And if they aren't appealing prospects, why should anyone marry them? Also...who said you had to marry someone your own age? Or of the oposite sex?
By the end of the article, she admits that there are problems with settling in "middle age," especially for people with children. "It’s one thing to settle for a subpar mate; it’s quite another to settle for a subpar father figure for my child," she says. Apparently failing to remember that, had she settled for a subpar mate, she would have had children with said subpar mate, since a baby was such a must-have for her that she had one without any mate. Which should mean, of course, that settling at any time has this problem.
But no, Ms. Privileged Sheltered Twit sees this as proof that one should settle and settle young. I suppose she thinks this would at least make dating easier, should your marriage of convenience end in divorce, since the poor sap you settled for would be shelling out child support payments and watching the kidlets while you date. Yes, Lori, all men are checkbooks and possibly helping hands, and all women are willing to whore themselves to get the money and aid. Not.
Now, excuse me while I go puke.