What If?

Predictably, when you go to lots of weddings, you start thinking about marriage.  Interestingly enough, when you read a book about weddings/marriage, and combine that with wedding attendance, well, you can't really stop thinking about marriage.  This past weekend, I attended one wedding, and in two weeks, I'll attend another.  Both of these weddings are not really mine, as in: they're both friends of S that are doing the wedding thing.  And of course, I had to go and buy I Do, But I Don't, by Kamy Wicoff, and then read it.  So yes.  I've been thinking about marriage.

Mostly in a general, sort of a "is this really for me?" thought process.  And I really thought Wicoff's book would be a great read for me, as a feminist who is a little unsure of weddings and marriage in general.  But it really wasn't.  Wicoff takes for granted that her readership believes in the idea of marriage, and not only that, but she takes for granted the idea that most feminists want some sort of traditional wedding ceremony.  I was incredibly disappointed in the book, and I thought it started out so promisingly.  I even marked some pages with post-its, so I could go back and re-read, or quote.  I won't be doing that, because by the time I got 1/3 of the way in, I was so pissed at the book, I'm not sure why I kept reading.

Wicoff seems to have written a book that's all about hindsight; she constantly muses on what she would have done if she had done it differently.  (Different dress, different make-up, different proposal, different ring, different blah blah blah.)  In fact, I'm not sure that she put much thought into her own wedding at all, considering all her "after the fact" revisions.  And her petty emphasis on money made me blanch.  When she's talking about her engagement ring, she can't help telling us EXACTLY how big it is.  More than once.  All the while complaining that the ring makes her feel less like a feminist, and more like an owned woman.  But don't worry, she ditches the ring after three years of marriage, because wearing it just feels wrong.  Well, phew. 

She also bashes registries, claiming that they're greedy and materialistic, and were really only supposed to be about setting up a new couple's home, and then goes on to explain how she had this many registries and they registered for this and that, but oh, we also registered to give to charities.  You know, besides the china and crystal.  And her opinion on the pressure for brides to look perfect on their day is pretty much blown to bits when she tells the reader what the average spent on beauty aids and so on is for a bride, and then assures us that she spent more than the average bride.  Well, whoop-de-fucking-do.  I'm pretty sure that us readers didn't need to know how much she spent on beautification.  It doesn't add anything to her critique of this system--and of course, she talks about the pressure to lose weight, and how she didn't like having to feel like this but of course she worked out all the time and of course she was very skinny on her wedding day.

Frankly, I got sick of all the materialistic details.  I didn't want to hear about her amazing ceremony in the mountains, with its expensive porta-potty cabins.  I wanted to read some sort of meaningful, important feminist criticism and understanding of marriage.  Instead, Wicoff pretty much relives her whole wedding experience, and tries to make it better, so that we, the reader, can understand what she did wrong.  I don't get it.  And one of my main problems with weddings is the whole "giving away" thing, and Wicoff never even talks about the problems inherent in a ceremony that passes a woman from one man to another, except to say that she couldn't convince her mom to walk down the aisle with her dad and her.  What about walking down the aisle alone?  What about giving yourself away?

So yes, I've been thinking about marriage.  But I'm clearly more radical than Wicoff, because I still don't think that I'm completely reconciled to the idea of a wedding.  To the idea of marriage.  It's an incredibly unfair institution, one that excludes part of our population, one that is discriminating against people that are different.  And it's still, down to the engagement ring and that walk down the aisle, patriarchal.  It's still hard to frame any sort of wedding in any sort of meaningful feminist way, because marriage just isn't about feminism.  It's about power, and unfortunately, that power often skews right towards men.

Of course, I'm conflicted.  How could I not be?  For years, I've been fed the message that marriage is desirable, and that every girl wants a big diamond and a big white dress and a big, expensive party afterwards.  And sometimes I think that I do at least want to be part of a marriage.  But at the same time, I think that my conscience won't let me do it.  And it's a horrible mixed message I'm sending to S--I want to get married.  Wait, no I don't.  No, I do.  No way, no I don't.  I'm aware very much of the contradiction.  Sometimes, I think that I just want S to ask me to marry him, so I can say, yes but....Yes, but I won't actually marry you.  I'll commit my life to you and I'll pledge to love you forever, but no thanks to all the other stuff.  Because the more I think about things, the more I realize I don't want a big ring, and I don't want a white dress, and I don't want the aisle or the party.  I don't want anything resembling what people call a wedding, and so do I even want the marriage? 

It is, of course, not about S. I hope I won't get any sort of flak like this:  "Oh, well, if it was the RIGHT man, you'd want it."  And it's insulting to think that anyone could mistake my problems with marriage as problems with S.  My problems with marriage are outside of us.  They are social, in a word.  I simply cannot reconcile myself with what is an institution that is still in many ways harmful to women.  I cannot reconcile myself to an institution that will exclude some of my closest friends, because of who they love.  Most of the time, the idea of marriage just puts me off.  Just feels wrong to me.

And sometimes, I think, that if it were just S and I, if it were just us, it might be okay.  But marriage is not really about two people.  And I suppose it's naive of me to think that I could make it that way.

Comments

[Cauri]

Just landed here randomly, but I just wanted to let you know I could completely relate. The same concerns have been on my mind lately. Somebody recommended that Wicoff book to me, but I had mixed feelings about it...I'm glad I didn't pick it up. Anyway, it just struck me--the back & forths that you confess to experiencing, because I am, myself, a walking contradiction. It isn't so much the marriage--the being committed to my best friend/love of my life...It's the...But do I really want something strapped to my finger, tagging me as someone else's object? Either way, I'm glad I'm not alone in my confusion...Sometimes it's nice just to know other people have the same thought processes.