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227 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 4, 2014
That’s the great thing about love; it’s never distant and hypothetical but always immediate and personal. And when we try to guess what we’d do based on hypothetical questions, we often underestimate our capacity to be able to adapt, to grow, and to love. We think: I could never do that. But when we find ourselves in the situation, we seem to find a way to do it. We’re stronger than we thought we were. Or perhaps we’re more attached than we ever imagined we could be.
There’s a fine line, it seems, between an admission of vulnerability and self-sabotage.
Many women I’ve heard from simply can’t continue to correspond with—much less agree to meet—a man who can’t spell or who writes in an off-putting style. One woman was so bothered by the guy’s habit of never capitalizing or punctuating his messages and relying on texting shorthand that she finally ended their brief flirtation by quipping, “You’re too lowercase for me.” To which he replied, “what do u mean”
When we intensify our focus—as online dating sites encourage us to do—we tend to lose our peripheral vision. We may gain a feeling of greater control over our love lives and a sense of mission, but at what cost?
We talk about “falling” in love, as if all the process involves is finding the right person, stepping off the ledge, and letting gravity do its thing. But for many, love is more about finding a right-ish person and then trying to figure out if what the two of you have together is enough or not. There seem to be, in short, two kinds of love—the kind you can’t deny and the kind you eventually come around to.
Reason and lust have their place in finding love, but if possible we also want to feel like our relationship was maneuvered into place by forces greater than our own humble brainpower and raging libido.
This increase in freedom, though, can bring with it a burdensome flip side. When we can choose anyone from almost anywhere and it’s completely up to us, the pressure to make the “best” choice can feel overwhelming, and the chance that we might later feel disappointed with the choice we make grows—at least during times of stress and conflict—because just look at all the others we passed up. And what’s most troubling, of course, is the possibility that we already missed out on the person we realize (in retrospect) we were meant to be with, only we weren’t mature or ready or whatever enough to know it, and now it’s too late.
When marriage is no longer about baby making, financial need, or acquiring another set of hands to help work the farm, we can be more demanding in terms of what the other person must bring to the table.
So what’s the appeal? For starters, low expectations. After all, it’s hard to have high expectations—or any—when you don’t even know the person. In contrast, Western marriages tend to begin with stratospheric hopes. We believe we have found true love at last, and now we finally can revel in our bliss. So as soon as dissatisfaction or unhappiness creeps in—and it will—we are surprised, upset, and maybe already contemplating whether we made a “mistake” we need to undo, and fast.
Even if you can’t imagine yourself marrying some stranger who was selected for you, there are still lessons to be learned from arranged marriage. The most important one I’ve seen is for us to approach love and marriage more humbly than we often do, with our starry-eyed expectations of lifelong romance and connection and great sex. We believe those things are requirements for love, the foundation of a successful marriage, the spring from which all good things flow. But we can very easily come to marriage with an abundance of connection and affection and then lose it, just as we can come to marriage completely empty-handed and build it.
As a natural skeptic of such services, I have now seen enough to make me a believer. Not in the magical powers of psychics and fortune-tellers, but in their ability to get us to pay better attention to the world we’re already living in, or sleepwalking through.
Vulnerability is what love is all about. And vulnerability involves yielding control, revealing weakness, embracing imperfection, and opening ourselves up to the possibility of loss. Only when we open ourselves to the possibility of loss can we allow for the possibility of love.
Some people share their anxieties and private shames immediately and indiscriminately, but vulnerability is more credible and effective when it’s rationed out and offered with humility, not sprayed scattershot.
A grand gesture is not a gaudy gift. Gaudy gifts tend to be more about power plays and bribery.
Cathi thought the idea of vowing something you might not be able to follow through on was dishonest at best. She thought saying words in a certain way just because billions of other people had said them that way was shallow and stupid. She also thought throwing your bouquet into a crowd of shrieking single women was sexist and insulting and ridiculous and she didn’t want to do it. She thought smashing cake into each other’s faces as everyone clapped and cheered was disgusting and wasteful; she loves cake (it’s basically her favorite food), and she wanted to be able to sit down and enjoy her cake like a normal person, not have it smeared ear to ear as if she were some drunken frat boy.
one change that seems all too clear is how the ease, control, and dazzling features of smartphones can make living our lives through them preferable to living in the physical world that surrounds us.
As expansive and liberating as online-only relationships can feel, they are as narrow as the cable that allows them to exist, and this narrowness can be like a tight-fitting sleeve that keeps the thing from busting out into something more. For some relationships, though, narrow is good. Narrow, in fact, can be everything.
Often the real victim in an open marriage is not the couple, who have each other to fall back on, but the outsider, who gets left out.
I’ve actually heard from people in open marriages mulling how many flings they were “entitled” to, based on their spouse’s track record so far—a level of bean-counting and pettiness that seems contrary to the whole notion of personal and sexual freedom and creativity that open marriage is supposed to be about.
according to research conducted by Salary.com, today’s average stay-at-home mother would bring in about $115,000 a year if she were to receive a paycheck for her efforts (a base salary of $37,000 plus a whopping $78,000 in overtime)—an impressive amount, to be sure.
Preaching selflessness in marriage isn’t the answer. Pursuing fairness is.
Feeling nostalgic about closeness forged during difficult times is a relatively common occurrence,
No one wants to relive the emotional trauma of a frightening diagnosis and treatment or the physical torture of a body-shattering accident. But many of those who have endured times of crisis would like to be able to recapture the feelings of connection, appreciation, and caretaking that bloomed in the midst of their misfortune. They believe that joint struggle brought out their best selves, and they’d like to find a way to access those best selves again. But you can’t fake a devotion test, even if you want to.