“You know it’s never fifty-fifty
in a marriage. It’s always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in
love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard
to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride.”
— Jodi
Picoult, Mercy
If there’s one sound
generalisation which we can attribute to marriage it’s that it’s forever
unbalanced; one reaching toward the other, and hopefully there is reciprocation,
but never the perfect reciprocation. Where one partner excels in doing the
housework, it’s hoped that the other partner pulls their weight in some other
way. One does the ironing, whilst the other does the dishes. That’s the idea.
Within all the imbalance there is
ideally a meeting of the minds toward relational compromise—toward a
mutually-agreeable acceptance.
But those who are married will
usually have more realistic expectations; marriage is no fair-weather ground
where calm seas prevail at all times. There are the inevitable fronts and
swells. Choppy seas are starkly metaphorical for those conditions that arise
suddenly, producing perfect storms of indifference where the waves of conflict
smash against the rocks of trust and respect.
Marriage is ebb and flow—a continuity
between two souls with separate passions, entrenched beliefs, individual
baggage, and divided priorities, who, due to the circumstances of their
togetherness, must make the best of what they have, which is neither theirs or
the others’—but theirs together.
Is Balance Achievable or Even Desirable?
Without being defeatist we could
wonder whether the myriad variables in marriage are worth balancing or not.
Would we be better served to appreciate whatever contribution the other can, or
is willing, to make? The danger, of course, surrounds those who are minimalist
by nature; the characteristically selfish. No partner wants to be a doormat.
There has to be a way through for
the responsible partner; a way of them surviving with their sanity intact. They
may have little influence over changing their partners.
Rather than despair there is
another option. For the responsible partner, the one who makes the lion’s share
of the sacrifices—the most functional one—there is safety and wisdom in
reaching a landing of identity beyond
the partnership.
What enters the room, now, is the
idea of singleness-of-identity in marriage.
Holding Single and Couple Balls in the
Air Simultaneously
Perhaps one of the most resilient
methods for making marriage work is the ability to draw on two concepts of
identity: 1) the married person as they are identified within the couple, and 2)
the married person as a single person.
One of the things I will always be
grateful for—and my wife is within herself, too—is that we spent a sufficient
amount of time as single people before we married. So for us, to become single
again within moments of our marriage is not hard. Indeed we desire it. It’s
important as married couples that we can gain fresh perspective through the
beauty of space.
Every good relationship draws on
space. Good relationships can subsist in the midst of conflict, because
partners understand when distance is appropriate so that mental and emotional processing
may take place.
Marriage is not weakened by space,
and by the identity of singleness; rather it is strengthened. Marriage is also
strengthened in the acceptance of the things we cannot change.
***
When the inequities within
marriage can be mutually accepted, and the couple are just as happily
themselves as they are in the unit, marriage is a beautiful institution.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.