Love, Commitment, Phobias
When I was in my twenties all I wanted was to find a partner. I'm not saying I would have candidly admit that to anyone. On the surface I wanted fun and adventure. But, deep down, I always craved the traditional. Maybe not a white picket fence and a house in the suburbs with a Labrador and two kids, but at least romantic partner to make memories and live together in a city and see the world.
It's not that unusual. I come from a family where my parents were happily married. They were not career-oriented people--they worked to provide for a family. The same is true of my closer aunt and uncles. And my neighbors. And most of my friends--though some had more career-oriented dads.
I think--whether they're willing to admit it or not--that most people crave the same thing. My friends wouldn't have said it twelve years ago. In fact, many of them denied it. But they all ended up married with families. Several of them before they made it to their mid-twenties. I think most humans crave a bond. Or community. And where else can you get that if not from family? You can be single your whole life if you're surrounded by cousins or siblings or aunts and uncles--but that's not the way most of us live these days. You can develop a close circle of friends, but that's not always lasting. Sooner or later they move. Or they get older and things change. Or they just start having families and their priorities change. I had great friends in my twenties. They're great friends now. But there is almost no chance I can get up a gang of guys to go on a road trip one weekend. I probably can't even get a gang of couples together for a trip--because they're too busy having to spend time with their kids and visit relatives.
I suppose there are other sources to find that human connection. Certainly I think that's a big reason people are drawn to religion and getting involved with a church. That's a pretty static group of people that doesn't evolve much. And some people also find it through hobbies and other organizations--whether that's a book club or some sort of men's organization or a group of cycling buddies.
Again, I think everyone craves this. It's why we work jobs that aren't perfect to make money to provide for ourselves and the people we love--otherwise we'd all be living on a beach or someplace making enough money to get buy and fucking enjoying life. People are, by nature, social creatures. Countless studies show that time alone lead to depression and increased risk of Alzheimer's and dementia as we get older. And, even without that, deep down nobody wants to imagine a life where they're 70 years old and the only old person sitting around the senior center on Christmas with no family to take them to dinner or visit. It's a depressing way to imagine your last years. I would fucking shoot myself. I'm sure there are people who can handle it--and 100% of those people are currently getting in touch with their inner Kaczynsky living alone in the woods somewhere and avoiding humanity. If you're actively participating in society, that's not you.
When I was young, every relationship was about wide-eyed optimism and believing things would last forever. I avoided flings and dead ends because I knew I was searching for something else.
But a funny thing happened as I got older. When I would get into a longterm relationship I'd start to panic. Hindsight is 20/20 and right now I have the benefit of looking at my current situation and my current life and saying that those girls just "weren't the right one." And maybe I even realized that at the time. That there was something not right about the situation. I definitely did not always use the best criteria when it comes to picking people to date. It was mostly "is she fit, pretty, and into me? OK!!" And I often stayed for stupid reasons. I stayed in a relationship that was bad for a year just because I knew every time we laid down in the same bed we were going to fuck. I stayed in a terrible relationship for a couple of years because I was just fucking sick of dating and would rather bang my head against a wall trying to fix thing over having to climb back into the dating pool. I stayed with people I knew were hung up on exes. I stayed with people I knew had a fear of commitment. And I stayed with people who were just safe--as opposed to exciting or interesting. And I stayed with people who were self-centered, neglectful, and took me for granted--only being nice when the mood suited them or they wanted something. Of course, in the interest of full disclosure, I was guilty of taking at least one person for granted, too. I may have thought about them just as much, but I stopped making a conscious effort to make sure they knew how I felt every day.
So it makes sense that I had a fear of commitment. That it never really crossed my mind. Certainly in retrospect.
But I just remember thinking--fearing--the idea of giving up anything "new" ever happening. Of losing that roller coaster feeling that something exciting is happening. Of never experiencing that period of time when you KNOW the person you're with can't wait 2 days to be with you and can't make it through the work day without thinking about you.
Now, as I get older, I think I've gone the other way. That idea doesn't scare me anymore. And it's not out of some desperation to settle down or feeling that it's time. I long ago realized that I am capable of being on my own and I would much rather do that than be with the wrong person. But I think I've become self-aware and intelligent enough to avoid the wrong person. There was a time in my life when things like "does she have perky boobs and wear a lot of short skirts" and "will she blow my friends away" mattered way more than it should. And that was fucking stupid. Because, really, somewhere along the line I realized that all that matters is how a person makes me feel, how they treat me, and how much I want to be around them because I enjoy the things they say and do. Those are the things that determine how happy I am with a person. And how happy I am determines how much I love someone. And how much I love someone determines how much I can't keep my hands off them, or I want to be close to them, or I want to hear their voice. Not whether or not they look good naked or have a cool job or make my friends laugh...but it's surprising to look back and see how easy it was to lose sight of something that should have been common fucking sense...and to hurt people who deserved better in pursuit of something a little more superficial that shouldn't have fucking mattered.
And as far as something "new" and giving that up...I will admit that I'm hopelessly fucking naive and really do believe that love can and SHOULD be like in a great work of romantic literature. You shouldn't have to give up that "new" feeling, because if you're doing it right than it shouldn't ever go away. I realize that it's easy to fall into a rut and it's easy to take things for granted. It's easy to let words become meaningless by not backing them up with actions. But when it's right, it shouldn't be that way. I think that desire to always be around another...that flame-fueled passion can continue. That it's not that hard to take the time and send someone a note in morning. Or say/do something surprising during the day to let them know that you're thinking about them. Or to add spontaneity and romance to things with a surprise dinner...or a sexy romantic evening. Or just something as simple as doing something special that you know they'll appreciate and will catch them off guard. I know that in most relationships that stuff stops after the first few months...and maybe only pops up again when things are in the doldrum and people are in search of the proverbial "spark," but I don't know if that's just laziness, or making excuses and letting life to get in the way, or a sign that maybe things don't fit like they should.
But it seems like when something is right and special then it's important to recognize it, not lose sight of the good things, make a regular effort to let your partner know how you feel, etc...and that if you do that then it has to be better than that "new" feeling that comes in the beginning, because it's something more sustained and real and even more special.
It's not that unusual. I come from a family where my parents were happily married. They were not career-oriented people--they worked to provide for a family. The same is true of my closer aunt and uncles. And my neighbors. And most of my friends--though some had more career-oriented dads.
I think--whether they're willing to admit it or not--that most people crave the same thing. My friends wouldn't have said it twelve years ago. In fact, many of them denied it. But they all ended up married with families. Several of them before they made it to their mid-twenties. I think most humans crave a bond. Or community. And where else can you get that if not from family? You can be single your whole life if you're surrounded by cousins or siblings or aunts and uncles--but that's not the way most of us live these days. You can develop a close circle of friends, but that's not always lasting. Sooner or later they move. Or they get older and things change. Or they just start having families and their priorities change. I had great friends in my twenties. They're great friends now. But there is almost no chance I can get up a gang of guys to go on a road trip one weekend. I probably can't even get a gang of couples together for a trip--because they're too busy having to spend time with their kids and visit relatives.
I suppose there are other sources to find that human connection. Certainly I think that's a big reason people are drawn to religion and getting involved with a church. That's a pretty static group of people that doesn't evolve much. And some people also find it through hobbies and other organizations--whether that's a book club or some sort of men's organization or a group of cycling buddies.
Again, I think everyone craves this. It's why we work jobs that aren't perfect to make money to provide for ourselves and the people we love--otherwise we'd all be living on a beach or someplace making enough money to get buy and fucking enjoying life. People are, by nature, social creatures. Countless studies show that time alone lead to depression and increased risk of Alzheimer's and dementia as we get older. And, even without that, deep down nobody wants to imagine a life where they're 70 years old and the only old person sitting around the senior center on Christmas with no family to take them to dinner or visit. It's a depressing way to imagine your last years. I would fucking shoot myself. I'm sure there are people who can handle it--and 100% of those people are currently getting in touch with their inner Kaczynsky living alone in the woods somewhere and avoiding humanity. If you're actively participating in society, that's not you.
When I was young, every relationship was about wide-eyed optimism and believing things would last forever. I avoided flings and dead ends because I knew I was searching for something else.
But a funny thing happened as I got older. When I would get into a longterm relationship I'd start to panic. Hindsight is 20/20 and right now I have the benefit of looking at my current situation and my current life and saying that those girls just "weren't the right one." And maybe I even realized that at the time. That there was something not right about the situation. I definitely did not always use the best criteria when it comes to picking people to date. It was mostly "is she fit, pretty, and into me? OK!!" And I often stayed for stupid reasons. I stayed in a relationship that was bad for a year just because I knew every time we laid down in the same bed we were going to fuck. I stayed in a terrible relationship for a couple of years because I was just fucking sick of dating and would rather bang my head against a wall trying to fix thing over having to climb back into the dating pool. I stayed with people I knew were hung up on exes. I stayed with people I knew had a fear of commitment. And I stayed with people who were just safe--as opposed to exciting or interesting. And I stayed with people who were self-centered, neglectful, and took me for granted--only being nice when the mood suited them or they wanted something. Of course, in the interest of full disclosure, I was guilty of taking at least one person for granted, too. I may have thought about them just as much, but I stopped making a conscious effort to make sure they knew how I felt every day.
So it makes sense that I had a fear of commitment. That it never really crossed my mind. Certainly in retrospect.
But I just remember thinking--fearing--the idea of giving up anything "new" ever happening. Of losing that roller coaster feeling that something exciting is happening. Of never experiencing that period of time when you KNOW the person you're with can't wait 2 days to be with you and can't make it through the work day without thinking about you.
Now, as I get older, I think I've gone the other way. That idea doesn't scare me anymore. And it's not out of some desperation to settle down or feeling that it's time. I long ago realized that I am capable of being on my own and I would much rather do that than be with the wrong person. But I think I've become self-aware and intelligent enough to avoid the wrong person. There was a time in my life when things like "does she have perky boobs and wear a lot of short skirts" and "will she blow my friends away" mattered way more than it should. And that was fucking stupid. Because, really, somewhere along the line I realized that all that matters is how a person makes me feel, how they treat me, and how much I want to be around them because I enjoy the things they say and do. Those are the things that determine how happy I am with a person. And how happy I am determines how much I love someone. And how much I love someone determines how much I can't keep my hands off them, or I want to be close to them, or I want to hear their voice. Not whether or not they look good naked or have a cool job or make my friends laugh...but it's surprising to look back and see how easy it was to lose sight of something that should have been common fucking sense...and to hurt people who deserved better in pursuit of something a little more superficial that shouldn't have fucking mattered.
And as far as something "new" and giving that up...I will admit that I'm hopelessly fucking naive and really do believe that love can and SHOULD be like in a great work of romantic literature. You shouldn't have to give up that "new" feeling, because if you're doing it right than it shouldn't ever go away. I realize that it's easy to fall into a rut and it's easy to take things for granted. It's easy to let words become meaningless by not backing them up with actions. But when it's right, it shouldn't be that way. I think that desire to always be around another...that flame-fueled passion can continue. That it's not that hard to take the time and send someone a note in morning. Or say/do something surprising during the day to let them know that you're thinking about them. Or to add spontaneity and romance to things with a surprise dinner...or a sexy romantic evening. Or just something as simple as doing something special that you know they'll appreciate and will catch them off guard. I know that in most relationships that stuff stops after the first few months...and maybe only pops up again when things are in the doldrum and people are in search of the proverbial "spark," but I don't know if that's just laziness, or making excuses and letting life to get in the way, or a sign that maybe things don't fit like they should.
But it seems like when something is right and special then it's important to recognize it, not lose sight of the good things, make a regular effort to let your partner know how you feel, etc...and that if you do that then it has to be better than that "new" feeling that comes in the beginning, because it's something more sustained and real and even more special.