My own marriage was, in retrospect, based on a lot of bad decisions. But while I should cringe while reminiscing, I can’t help but be a little proud. Not that I married late in life, had a short, tumultuous union that ended with him having an affair and me going from salsa to tango. The horror of divorce, the shame of public failure, the emotional devastation of heartbreak, and, not to mention financial catastrophe—I can’t say all this was worth it. But as I listen to people tell me their own stories of forgoing their better judgment and taking a swan dive into the murky waters of love and marriage, I just can’t help but admire them—particularly the risk takers. And in doing so, perhaps I’m admiring my own bad, impetuous choices.
I recently met a man who recounted his short marriage. He told vignettes that made it clear the union was a symptom of his innermost pathos and disturbances reflected back to him in the form of another person. Her other virtues, “hot with big rack” is how he put it. And even now he can’t figure out what possessed him to get married, but he offered the insight that it was based on a type of sex that may in fact be illegal in some states.
There are many reasons to get married. Security, wanting to have a child, health insurance, but most often, it’s for a blinding, weak-in-the-knees LOVE. And who doesn’t admire this—the leap into our very best and worst selves. Though the next time one enters this realm, it’s a little more slowly, a little more cautiously, and one hopes uses the mind as much as the heart.
Causes Maria Finn Supports
CHEFS (Conquering Homelessness Through Education in Food Services)