Finding Love in a Loveless Place

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All around me growing up were families with two parents. Every friend I had growing up had a mom and dad at home. Even my cousins whose parents were legit addicts had both of them at home. They’re clean now by the way, but the point is is that I had a lot of marriages around me, but was lacking one in my own home. My dad was married to someone else when he knocked up my mom, and they didn’t seem to think they should be together when he then got her pregnant six years later with my brother…oh well, they taught me that sometimes it’s better to just be friends with those you mated with than to actually live under the same roof. Nevertheless, i grew up never having that importance of marriage shoved in my face.

Hell, even my older brother’s relationship wound up doomed. He and his baby mama never officially said “I do” and I thought that was okay until after over 20 years, she went and cheated on him. So with parents who were more like friends and the only long term relationship I’d ever known winding up a disaster – I often wondered how I came to love the idea of being a wife. It had to be more than my fascination with TLC’s Friday night lineup where I talked to myself about the cost of some stranger’s gown, or what another chose for her theme. Perhaps it was growing up with Disney princesses? Nah, all Disney ever did was make me believe that with my weird ass voice, I could rake in big bucks being a damsel in a sound booth.

While I have always pondered this, the answer was really just residing in the den of my mom’s trailer – a place where my grandma is living out her final days, weeks, months, years. While she absolutely loathed the men she shared her life with, she actually liked staying home and being a wife and mother. At least that’s what I’ve gathered from our conversations, and like her – I absolutely love any idea that has be staying home and tending to household chores. What? I fucking love the ‘50s…minus the whole racism thing. I’m a traditional housewife inside and I think that’s what drives me to love marriage.

Of course I love the idea of spending the rest of my life with my guy by my side, but I also very much like waking up on Monday morning, doing laundry and seeing him off to work. Of course this is just me. I’m a feminist in the fact that I believe women have the right to choose – you can choose to work outside the home, or choose to work at home. I love the latter because I loathe human interaction minus a handful of people. Possibly another reason I love marriage, it means that I have at least one person I stand who is always around.

I don’t tire of people I like too easily. I could’ve lived in that dorm room with my best friend forever if she didn’t decide to you know go do something productive with her life. Lawyers, am I right? Thankfully I found a male replacement and can definitely see myself spending the rest of our days in various one bedrooms across the country. I would say one day a house, but I’m a realist and know both of our student loans will not allow that…

So while I didn’t grow up with a marriage in my face, I came out of it still wanting someone by my side in sickness and in health and all that other mumbo jumbo some dude spits out at you on your wedding day.

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