With technology and advanced medical procedures the way they are now, starting a family no longer requires going through the traditional route of marriage. The past week, I've come to embrace the fact that I could live without being married and yet still have that chance to become a mother to some amazing children. Or I could still find Love in another way. I brought this thought up with my mother who surprisingly fully supported my plan. She, who married out of necessity and survival, had always wanted me to find Love and never settle for anything less. And so the rest of the week followed and I continued to remind myself, "love yourself."
Friday, March 25, 2016
Chapter 1: A New Definition of Love
When I was younger, I had always dreamed of the day I would get married. I wouldn't dream about the wedding itself in the way that most girls would fantasize--but I dreamed of the concept of marriage. To me, marriage was more about partnership and getting through life as a team than it was about Love. Marriage to me was also a means to have a family, whether that means a family just between the two of us, or the both of us plus a couple tiny humans. But it was never about Love itself. Love is not about feeling not lonely. Love is so much more than marriage between two people. And marriage is so much more than exchanging vows between two sexually consenting adults for life. Love is this action of extreme care, concern, and interest for another person.
I always thought I never really got to witness the romantic love that I would see in films and television, in real life, so I never really understood the concept of marriage for love. So I thought, perhaps Love doesn't exist for everyone. Then I witnessed Love through my family and friends. I witnessed my aunt who, most people would say 'never found love again', after my jackass uncle left her for another woman. But when I look at the immense amount of care and effort she has put into raising her children, my wonderful cousins, all on her own--I saw that she already had found this love. It wasn't in the form of another man, but in the form of her children. In another instance, I witnessed love on an entirely different level. The love for work. Never have I met someone so passionate for their work, than my coworker who never married or had children but spent the majority of her adulthood committed to her craft and made it her passion for life. She would rather fond over work than spend an evening in the arms of another who didn't love her back or greater in the same way that she loved her work.
With technology and advanced medical procedures the way they are now, starting a family no longer requires going through the traditional route of marriage. The past week, I've come to embrace the fact that I could live without being married and yet still have that chance to become a mother to some amazing children. Or I could still find Love in another way. I brought this thought up with my mother who surprisingly fully supported my plan. She, who married out of necessity and survival, had always wanted me to find Love and never settle for anything less. And so the rest of the week followed and I continued to remind myself, "love yourself."
With technology and advanced medical procedures the way they are now, starting a family no longer requires going through the traditional route of marriage. The past week, I've come to embrace the fact that I could live without being married and yet still have that chance to become a mother to some amazing children. Or I could still find Love in another way. I brought this thought up with my mother who surprisingly fully supported my plan. She, who married out of necessity and survival, had always wanted me to find Love and never settle for anything less. And so the rest of the week followed and I continued to remind myself, "love yourself."
Monday, March 14, 2016
Introduction
"I don't want to be in a relationship."
My boyfriend of 5 and a half years (although on-and-off) said.
"I'm not ready."
I blinked. And then the tears completely blurred the image of his emotionless face. There wasn't any sadness in his eyes when he said those words. Only pity and possibly, disgust. He felt sorry, but only because someone had turned on the faucet from my eyes and nose, and there wasn't enough tissue to contain it all. My poor scarf and sleeves.
"Please," I begged, sounding desperate like a beaten up puppy, "I'm not ready to be single."
"I'm sorry. I've made up my mind."
We sat silent in the lounge room of his condo building and the only sounds were that of defeat sniffling from my nose. I'm not a graceful cryer. I have a sinus thing. So it was both physically and emotionally an uncomfortable moment. I started to get up and leave.
"Are you walking out on me?" He questioned. It always upset him whenever I would storm out on him during a fight or very tense moment. And lately, since the months leading up to this point, we've been getting into a lot of fights and arguments. I saw it as growing pains when we would argue--every relationship goes through those moment, right? And every single time we got through a rough patch, I saw it as another layer of bricks being laid down for the foundation of our house, that is our relationship and future. I had this concept that anything in life can be related to building a house, or a large building, or a structure of any kind. Whether it is relationships, education, or even careers, every moment and step we take, is another part of the construction process of that building. How I yearned to one day live in that building we built together.
We met when we were 19. I was 20, he was 19. We skipped a lot of the getting-to-know-each-other process and went straight to the 'I love you' step. He fell madly in love with me the moment he saw me. But, I was 20 years old in a generation where we began to see a growing number of hard-working professional single or unmarried women over the age of 30. Marriage and love had not occurred to me yet and I feared it greatly. This set the tone of how our building would be built--under great hesitation. A year later, we went to the 'planning our future' phase. It was blissful honeymoon phase for the first year and a half of our relationship and I felt like we had all the time in the world because we were so young and naive. We took things really slow because of that and like most construction projects here in Toronto, the foundation took its time to be built.
I wanted us to be the 'cool' couple. Totally relaxed and not really concerned with typical young-people relationship phases. We never celebrated monthly anniversaries, we kept our relationship status hidden from our social media, and we only let our families and a very small handful of our closest friends know of our relationship. Whenever he would buy me gifts, I never felt the need to post it on social media and let the world know how loved I was and how I had the greatest boyfriend in the world. In hindsight, perhaps I should have.
He certainly had amazing qualities about him that I had not paid much attention to, or was grateful enough for them. I loved that he was loyal to those he cared deeply for. He would never "leave a man behind", he would always tell me whenever I felt left behind or alone. He was gentle and shy in social situations, so I wore the pants for the majority of the relationship and it made me feel strong and dependable. He always encouraged me and made me feel like I could do anything. Whenever he was under a lot of pressure and stress, he managed to pull through it all and just get stuff done! It amazed me, because at the time I was struggling with a growing hidden anxiety that caused me to never get things done. Most importantly, he has a great relationship with his mother and grandmother. A girl's best dream. His family is amazing. I loved them so much and I think they loved me too?
"I'm just going to the washroom to wash my face." I replied meekly. I should have just walked out while I had some ounce of dignity left. I crouched in the bathroom stall, clutching my arms with my hands. "Why, God," I cried out into the ceiling, "Help me be okay with this..." My eyes were swollen and red with mascara smudged under my eyes. My nose rubbed red by my sleeves and my lips and mouth were dry from anxiety and stress. I was a hot mess.
We walked out of the condo and into the streets to the alley behind the building. He lit up a cigarette. When we met I knew of his smoking and drinking habit. I tried to help him to quit and he did. He loved me so much that quitting both of these habits was incredibly easy to do. His parents disproval of this habit also helped as well. That's why they loved me immediately, among other things.
"I've been smoking and drinking for a while now," he spoke, "I didn't want you to see me like this." He stood five feet away from me, completely aware of the effects of second hand smoke and the chemicals he was breathing in. He still cared for me and still cared about what I thought of him. He looked down at his cigarette in shame.
"I should have been there for you," I replied, "this shouldn't have happened. You shouldn't have felt the need to do this. You shouldn't have felt so stressed out. That's what a relationship is for! I'm supposed be there for you!" I cried. I blamed myself so much that night for what had transpired.
"I'm sorry, I can't be emotionally attached, I need to focus on my studies" I said, couple months ago as we sat at my kitchen table. He had come over to complain about how distant I was and how lonely he felt because I was being this emotionless distant robot. He wanted to take a break from me a couple months ago and I didn't let him. I explained that school makes me stressed out and sometimes I can't handle the burden of emotionally caring for him and also caring for myself, so I shut myself off from feelings entirely. He should understand and just tolerate it until I was finished with my undergrad. I promised I'll be done and out and back as a normal girlfriend soon. He reluctantly agreed and we tried it my way for a few more months.
My boyfriend of 5 and a half years (although on-and-off) said.
"I'm not ready."
I blinked. And then the tears completely blurred the image of his emotionless face. There wasn't any sadness in his eyes when he said those words. Only pity and possibly, disgust. He felt sorry, but only because someone had turned on the faucet from my eyes and nose, and there wasn't enough tissue to contain it all. My poor scarf and sleeves.
"Please," I begged, sounding desperate like a beaten up puppy, "I'm not ready to be single."
"I'm sorry. I've made up my mind."
We sat silent in the lounge room of his condo building and the only sounds were that of defeat sniffling from my nose. I'm not a graceful cryer. I have a sinus thing. So it was both physically and emotionally an uncomfortable moment. I started to get up and leave.
"Are you walking out on me?" He questioned. It always upset him whenever I would storm out on him during a fight or very tense moment. And lately, since the months leading up to this point, we've been getting into a lot of fights and arguments. I saw it as growing pains when we would argue--every relationship goes through those moment, right? And every single time we got through a rough patch, I saw it as another layer of bricks being laid down for the foundation of our house, that is our relationship and future. I had this concept that anything in life can be related to building a house, or a large building, or a structure of any kind. Whether it is relationships, education, or even careers, every moment and step we take, is another part of the construction process of that building. How I yearned to one day live in that building we built together.
We met when we were 19. I was 20, he was 19. We skipped a lot of the getting-to-know-each-other process and went straight to the 'I love you' step. He fell madly in love with me the moment he saw me. But, I was 20 years old in a generation where we began to see a growing number of hard-working professional single or unmarried women over the age of 30. Marriage and love had not occurred to me yet and I feared it greatly. This set the tone of how our building would be built--under great hesitation. A year later, we went to the 'planning our future' phase. It was blissful honeymoon phase for the first year and a half of our relationship and I felt like we had all the time in the world because we were so young and naive. We took things really slow because of that and like most construction projects here in Toronto, the foundation took its time to be built.
I wanted us to be the 'cool' couple. Totally relaxed and not really concerned with typical young-people relationship phases. We never celebrated monthly anniversaries, we kept our relationship status hidden from our social media, and we only let our families and a very small handful of our closest friends know of our relationship. Whenever he would buy me gifts, I never felt the need to post it on social media and let the world know how loved I was and how I had the greatest boyfriend in the world. In hindsight, perhaps I should have.
He certainly had amazing qualities about him that I had not paid much attention to, or was grateful enough for them. I loved that he was loyal to those he cared deeply for. He would never "leave a man behind", he would always tell me whenever I felt left behind or alone. He was gentle and shy in social situations, so I wore the pants for the majority of the relationship and it made me feel strong and dependable. He always encouraged me and made me feel like I could do anything. Whenever he was under a lot of pressure and stress, he managed to pull through it all and just get stuff done! It amazed me, because at the time I was struggling with a growing hidden anxiety that caused me to never get things done. Most importantly, he has a great relationship with his mother and grandmother. A girl's best dream. His family is amazing. I loved them so much and I think they loved me too?
"I'm just going to the washroom to wash my face." I replied meekly. I should have just walked out while I had some ounce of dignity left. I crouched in the bathroom stall, clutching my arms with my hands. "Why, God," I cried out into the ceiling, "Help me be okay with this..." My eyes were swollen and red with mascara smudged under my eyes. My nose rubbed red by my sleeves and my lips and mouth were dry from anxiety and stress. I was a hot mess.
We walked out of the condo and into the streets to the alley behind the building. He lit up a cigarette. When we met I knew of his smoking and drinking habit. I tried to help him to quit and he did. He loved me so much that quitting both of these habits was incredibly easy to do. His parents disproval of this habit also helped as well. That's why they loved me immediately, among other things.
"I've been smoking and drinking for a while now," he spoke, "I didn't want you to see me like this." He stood five feet away from me, completely aware of the effects of second hand smoke and the chemicals he was breathing in. He still cared for me and still cared about what I thought of him. He looked down at his cigarette in shame.
"I should have been there for you," I replied, "this shouldn't have happened. You shouldn't have felt the need to do this. You shouldn't have felt so stressed out. That's what a relationship is for! I'm supposed be there for you!" I cried. I blamed myself so much that night for what had transpired.
"I'm sorry, I can't be emotionally attached, I need to focus on my studies" I said, couple months ago as we sat at my kitchen table. He had come over to complain about how distant I was and how lonely he felt because I was being this emotionless distant robot. He wanted to take a break from me a couple months ago and I didn't let him. I explained that school makes me stressed out and sometimes I can't handle the burden of emotionally caring for him and also caring for myself, so I shut myself off from feelings entirely. He should understand and just tolerate it until I was finished with my undergrad. I promised I'll be done and out and back as a normal girlfriend soon. He reluctantly agreed and we tried it my way for a few more months.
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