Before everyone starts freaking the shit out on me, I’d just like to say that age is not an accurate gauge of maturity or levels of commitment, so though I may have been alive for only 22 years I have an old soul, so shut the hell up, and no, I’m not getting married.

Yet.

And who knows when that would be? It may be next year; it may not be for another 22, but oh well, the onus is on me now, isn’t it?

It’s funny, how with one of my ex-boyfriends the thought of marriage scared the bejeezus out of me. Funnily enough I don’t think the topic ever really came up that often but I had this feeling that it was implied. He used to get angry with me when I brought it up, saying he (at the time) didn’t have a career, didn’t have much money, etc etc…and a little voice inside me used to pipe up, “But you do mean to, and I’m scared!”

I’m strange that way. I used to think I was being ‘perasan’ or paranoid, but as I’ve grown up I’ve come to realise that it’s a thing I do–when I’m close to someone, I pick up vibes from them. Vibes, feelings, thoughts–I know just when they’re about to call, and I know what they don’t want to speak about–if I’m being utterly obnoxious, it’s purely because I choose to be a right royal pain in the ass (something which I do very well, thank you).

But yeah, anyway. The point was that though I did love him very much, the thought of marriage made me quite literally run for the hills. I thought I’d never feel ready enough for it, and even tried to push him in the direction of other girls, saying that we were still young and that he should date around a bit more before committing to one person. He declined (not-so strangely enough at all, given how he had Venus in Taurus), and I was left wringing my hands and close to tears.

Marriage, or at least the very thought of it, has both bemused and frightened me these last few years. I know to an extent I am definitely the marrying kind; I love the idea of coming home to someone and making babies and making a house a home, but at the same time I know I have a restless spirit and I need the challenges and inconsistencies that life has to offer me. Which leads to the question: why marry in the first place?

I said in an interview once on having multiple best friends that we have different friends to suit different purposes. It may sound cruel and flighty, but it seems unfair to me to expect one person to have everything that you need–why shouldn’t this be true of something like marriage? Is it realistic to expect one person to be your all and to serve every purpose?

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am quite diverse in my needs. I need someone who will challenge me mentally, someone to discuss spirituality and religion with, someone to coo over cute babies and pretty shoes, someone to go shopping with for various household items and actually give a shit about whether the curtains match the sheets, someone to romance and woo me with poetry and declarations of love (I know the difference, when it’s put on and when it isn’t) and someone who would love the whole package, mood swings and crying spates included. It’s selfish of me to expect anyone to be able to fulfill all these needs at once and still be his own person so that I remain interested in him!

For that reason, the idea of an open marriage appeals to me somewhat. I read this excellent piece by a feminist academician who goes by the name Bitch Ph.D, with a later follow up. I was also skimming through More Joy of Sex, which my father pretty much forced me to bring home with me (”Take it and read it, it’s good to learn!”) while my mother fluttered and fretted disapprovingly in the background, elbowing him and hissing “Don’t encourage her!”.

Bitch Ph.D argues thus: “The truth, I think, is that it is impossible for one person to be “everything” to someone else. Impossible and, I think, cruel: setting the other person (and, incidentally, yourself) up to fail. In part, this is the answer to the “why open marriage?” question in a nutshell: because I think it is loving to deal with your fear in order not to limit the other person’s growth. Yes, my standards are high (which is why you do not want to be keeping my house), but at least I try to avoid a double standard. Now, surely there are people who have such issues with jealousy and fears of betrayal that it is best for them and their partners to agree that there are limits: here, monogamy has its uses. But I think that for most people, garden-variety jealousy and fear is, or can be, or should be, a way to learn: what is it you are afraid of? What is it that you are not getting (or giving)? What does your crush on this other person, or your partner’s crush, say about who they are that they didn’t know before? In other words, as my friend asked: “what do you get out of ‘cheating’ that you don’t get at home?”"

According to Comfort (1987:166-168), ’sharing’ can actually be a sensual, pleasant, and bonding experience. It’s societal discourses that dictate that sex is shameful and should be denied and done behind closed doors (the closed doors part I agree somewhat–I really don’t want to have someone shagging in my breakfast, thanks). He argues that marriage to one partner exclusively is quite restrictive, and this argument is also supported by Bitch Ph.D who says that expecting total exclusivity limits growth, and if you really do love someone, would you really want to control them at all?

Perhaps this is a little radical; and mind you I am in no way encouraging it. There are of course medical considerations (always have safe sex!) and emotional imbalances between couples–’sharing’ should never happen because one partner is only going along to shut the other up or make them happy. It’s a personal thing.

I’m just saying that for now these thoughts appeal to me, though I realise it may not always work because jealousy happens (and I can be quite the jealous person). However, Comfort (1987:157-159) is of the opinion that jealousy is actually unnatural and is more of a social convention than anything else, which actually makes sense–because along with marriage, the notion that you can own and control another human being (tcah!) is also a social construct.

I was also reading this other blogpost about marriage and how young women are increasingly marrying young because they want to. And yet, how the risks of divorce etc hang over them like a dark cloud; yet, the author argues, marriage, regardless of age, is always a risk. Which is totally true–the same argument that accidents can happen at anytime. It’s more than one factor that comes into play to set off a chain of events!

I’m not entirely sure where I stand on the issue of matrimony now. Talks of marriage with the boyfriend have definitely come up, and he knows me well enough to understand where I stand on the issue (which is basically all over the place, in mad scrambles from one stance to another with lightning speed, because though while I still do entertain notions of a Happily Ever After, he knows I’m more pragmatic than that–and that yes, I am a feminist, so he better damn well not expect me to iron his boxers and obediently come (pun intended) when summoned, though if I do, good for him).

For now, I think I’d rather not leap into the deep end if I can avoid it, though if I have to (because of visas and whatnot), I know I wouldn’t be all that fussed either. I love him deeply, and really think that I can see myself with him for a long time. But my point is, why limit oneself to definitions and norms? Marriage, open or closed, can be just as liberating or restricting as anything else–I simply don’t get why people are so hung up over definitions. What does it matter at the end of the day, really?

People can be married (like my grandparents) and yet have nothing to do with each other; others live together for years on end in the manner of our traditional definition of a ‘married couple’ and yet not be married; so I really don’t understand why labels have to be slapped on everything and we need to feel the pressure from the ominous faceless and nameless Society to conform.

If and when marriage happens for me, I hope I do not end up limiting myself and my partner to the cookie-cutter life everyone thinks they’re supposed to have. But rest assured, I am neither shirking it nor embracing it entirely–when it comes, it comes, you know?