Marriage…And Meaning.

On Sunday morning I picked up Sunday Life, one of the supplements (and my favourite weekend lift-out) within The Sunday Age and started reading. I came across an article by Lena Chen, on marriage.

Chen’s article made some valid points – on social justice and who’s allowed to get married and why people get married and why it’s not just about big dresses and seven tiered cakes. All points that I nodded to and agreed with. Except one. This one:

“There’s nothing inherently ‘special’ that marriage brings to a relationship.”

That’s the point when I stopped and thought, ‘Hmm, I don’t think so.”

And so I tweeted that despite the fine points made in the article, I disagreed with that one and wondered how Chen could claim that to be so when she has not ever been and is not married.

Chen has since contacted me via Twitter and raised various points as to why she sticks by what she says – backing it up with statistics and stating that a marriage is only one because it’s legal and that ,“Marriage doesn’t imbue relationships with meaning,” and the only reason people marry is for Government incentives and that marriage does not necessarily equal love and so on and so on.

Despite all of her efforts, I still entirely disagree with her statement. And, in true Sandi Sieger fashion, I let her know that. That despite Chen’s fine points, I cannot and will not ever agree that marriage does not offer anything special, or meaningful, to a relationship.

Chen is unmarried. Try as she might, assume as she will, she cannot know what it is like to be married. She can guess, imagine, empathise and use as many stats as she likes, but the fact remains that she’s unmarried.

When I raised this with her, she said, “I (also) don’t need to have been married to be able to make statements about the institution if I back up claims with logic.”

Well, yes Lena, yes you do.

I’m not a mother. Assume and guess and use logic all I like, until I am one I will not fully, completely be able to make statements about being a mother with any form of credibility.

More so, as a married person, I do not assume that people who are unmarried aren’t in “special” and “meaningful” relationships. So I don’t really appreciate it when people make statements about my relationship that are entirely incorrect.

The truth is, when it comes to love, you can take the graphs and stats and logic and throw it out a window because it’s irrelevant – there’s no place for logic in love. You can talk about reality, and divorce, and how marriage is a, “Western and privileged idea,” all you like and it will not make a squiddly do of difference.

Perhaps some people that get married don’t do it for love. Perhaps they do it for comfort or convenience, or in countries that I would label as ‘backward’ perhaps they do it by arrangement or to provide their family with eighteen goats – but they are not my reasons. I did not get married by force or because of expectation, due to ease or comfort, or because I wanted to start a small farm.

I got married because I, and my husband, wanted to. We chose to. Because marriage is something we value.

Has marriage strengthened our relationship? Yes. Has it enhanced our relationship? Yes. Are we happier? Yes. Do we love being married? Yes. Do we believe that our marriage has meaning? Yes. That it’s special? Yes.

Yes, yes and yes.

To suggest that what we have isn’t special, or meaningful, is entirely incorrect. To suggest that what we had prior to marriage wasn’t either is also incorrect. My point is, that for us, marriage only added to something already great and made it even better. And how or why that happened is something beyond a survey questionnaire or a logistical explanation – something shifted, slowly, and changed, slightly. Something about the way that we feel and the bond that we have and that something is between us – and us alone.

I wasn’t to know that was going to happen – but I wasn’t self-righteous enough to assume that it wasn’t ever going to either.

You cannot sweep ‘marriage’ up into one exact category and stick a label on it – just the same way you can’t do that with ‘family’ or being ‘single’ or ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’.

And whilst I can only hope that, one day soon, all people will be allowed and granted the right to marry, I cannot and will not apologise for being one of the lucky ones who is able to. Chen is right, marriage is a privilege, and one I take as being so.

In reality, I care not about people’s relationships – I believe everyone should be able to do as they please and live as they like. But what riles me up is people that make statements, on my behalf, that are unfounded and unfair.

I get questioned, more than you’d believe, as to why I got married – imagine if I asked someone in a relationship why they were not? I get questioned, more than you’d imagine,  as to why I changed my surname after marrying – imagine if I asked someone why they didn’t? I get questioned, all the time, from people I hardly know, about everything to do with my marriage – and all the assumptions and jokes that along with that – and I never question anyone about their relationship.

I’ve had people raise their eyebrow at me when I’ve said, “My husband.” It’s as if I’m someone that’s bound to a house, dust brush and mop in hand, slaving over a stove, devoid of an opinion and far too young to be bound up by it all. And I wonder, ‘Is that really what people think of a wife?’ If it is, no wonder they have such a low opinion of marriage.

I’m a wife – an independent, opinionated, hard working, young, spirited, loving, compassionate, happy wife. I love cooking. I even have an apron, or three. I clean our house, and do the washing, and pick up socks, and run errands, and iron clothes, and god damn, I even bake blueberry pies. I also run two businesses and juggle jobs and passions and interests and hobbies and a social life. I do things alone, often, and I’m as capable as clever.

I don’t need a husband to help me form an opinion, or to help me navigate a map, or to make decisions for me, or to hold my hand when I need to buck up, or to pick up the pieces when the pastry crumbles.

I was raised to walk, not crawl. Stand up, not sit down. I was taught to do, not delegate. Act, not talk. Bake my pie, and eat it too. It just so happens that, along the way, I found someone amazing and talented and funny and smart to share life with. Someone that picks up the pastry, even when I don’t ask them to.

What we had was always special, but it’s been made even more so by being married.

And Lena Chen can say all she likes, however she wants to, but our marriage is special and it has meaning – a ton of it – and we’re the kind union that doesn’t slot into a list of statistics, or fit into a graph. Perhaps a pie chart is something we’re much more suited to…but even then, if it’s not blueberry, or apple and rhubarb, we probably won’t be.

There’s a reason thousands upon thousands of people worldwide are fighting for the right to marry – because they want to be married. They want the option of being able to participate in a marriage. And they wouldn’t be fighting, so hard, if there was nothing inherently special about marriage or if it was entirely devoid of meaning.

TAV Student Summit 2011

Last Friday I presented at the Tourism Alliance Victoria Student Summit, held at the Melbourne Exhibition and Convention Centre.

I was thrilled to be asked to speak to the 700 strong crowd on the first five years of my career, my story and social media.

I had a fantastic time – I loved meeting the attendees and I also loved hearing the other presenters speak.

A New Hello.

After every low, comes a high.

After every rain, a ray of light,

After every hurdle, a flat track,

After every goodbye, a new hello.

Image credit: Kate Spade

Book 6: A Guide To Australian Etiquette

First published in Onya Magazine on March 23rd, 2011.

Last week I read: A Guide To Australian Etiquette by Ita Buttrose


In this updated edition of her classic, Ita Buttrose, AO, OBE, sets the record straight in her latest, and tenth, book; A Guide To Australian Etiquette.

“Times may have changed but good manners never go out of fashion,” says Buttrose. Twice voted Australia’s most admired woman, and following her extensive career in print, radio and television, it makes perfect sense to me that Buttrose, a woman of, but not only limited to, grace and style should pen a guide to cover all occasions – from work to weddings.

What I love about A Guide To Australian Etiquette is that it covers more than just your usual thank you notes and order of cutlery on a table; of course, those topics are included, as well as a series of chapters on weddings, but there’s some entirely other sections that I think I’ll be referring to more often; business etiquette, environmental etiquette, dogs (and their owners), the language of flowers (a list of flowers and their meanings) and how to carve meat and poultry correctly.  I particularly love the ‘Out and About’ chapter covering everything from supermarket shopping to public transport to attending the football to eating with chopsticks.

Dishing out advice on sharing personal information on social networking sites to how to behave in a mosque, Buttrose’s A Guide To Australian Etiquette is refreshing and realistic; because we all know that sometimes you need to carve you steak and eat it too.

I’m Trying To Be Less Judgemental.

I’m trying to be less judgemental.

About everything.

I don’t think I’m an inherently judgemental person, but I do make judgements. And it’s only after sitting back and consciously not judging, that I registered how much time I have spent doing so.

It’s wasted time. It’s negative time. And I’ve realised what’s far more useful and far more positive is spending time on and for yourself.

I’d rather have a bath than go out to dinner and listen to someone hypothesise about their neighbour’s lifestyle or their friend’s situation; there’s no good that comes from that, no use or benefit, and certainly no improvement. And there’s no fun in it.

Judgement is draining. It saps the energy out of you and only perpetuates the cycle of negativity and speculation that it thrives upon.

I don’t quite get it when people say it’s natural to judge. At what point did assuming the circumstances of someone’s life or situation become the natural thing to do? Become a perfectly accepted thing to do?

I’ve judged people on their ability. On their clothing. On their family situation. On their house. On their job. On their car. On where they eat. On who they spend time with. On their book collection. On their attitude. And what has that done for me?

Nothing.

Blatantly declaring that someone is an awful writer doesn’t make me a better one. Thinking that someone’s clothes are hideous doesn’t make mine look any nicer.

We judge because we want to feel better about ourselves. Because we want to distinguish our situation from another. Separate any similarities and then tear the rest to shreds.

I’ve discovered that if you spend the time once exhausted on judgement – the thinking it, the gossiping it – and turn it towards yourself, you will not only grow, but soar.

Working towards being a better person is more valuable than chatting about people you work with.

My grandmother used to say, and this is a literal Italian translation so some of its beauty is lost in translation, that if you kick every stone on the street you’ll need a brand new pair of shoes every week.

I’ve realised that nothing is more accurate. Kicking stones, making judgements, spreading negativity – all it leaves you with is fatigue and vexation. And holes in your shoes.

Fans, Athletes and Social Media.

First published in White Echo on March 7th, 2011.

When I was growing up, the only way I could interact with my favourite sports stars was by meeting them. And that didn’t happen very often. Loitering around a football field, I’d wait with autograph book and pen in hand for my favourite players to exit the field, or club room, after training. Or perhaps I’d get to take a happy snap at a club function, or a family day.

The only way I knew about what was going on in the lives of the athletes I admired was via the media; reading an interview in the newspaper, or hearing them on radio, or glimpsing some pictures and web copy online. Sure, I knew when they were born, every statistic about their career and every opinion about their last game – maybe I’d even find out what their favourite film was, or favourite food – but that was the extent of it. There was no possible way to find out anything more – anything more substantial or indicative of who they were or what they liked – and definitely no way of interacting or engaging with them.

To continue reading the article, please click here.

Coveted Canvas Interview

The lovely Tammi Ireland from Coveted Canvas in Perth interviewed me earlier this week about all things beauty – specifically, my beauty routine, and why I use the products I do.

Click on this link to check it out.

You Can’t Plan Everything.

Earlier this year, I resolved to read a book a week. And it was all going so well, until a few weeks ago.

It’s not that I’m not reading – I’ve got a few books on the go, I’m reading articles and blogs every day online, I’m reading newspapers and magazines, I’m reading web copy for clients – it’s just that I’ve not finished reading one book.

And what I’ve realised is that’s ok. When the year started, I had no idea how it would unravel. I had no idea in January as to what I’d be doing in March. 2011 most certainly started at a hectic pace, and it hasn’t slowed down. Each week may get busier, but it also gets better; with more opportunities and more fun and more work.

In the past few weeks I’ve been writing more than ever before. Part due to need and part due to want. And that’s something I’m really happy about.

It’s not that I don’t plan on finishing a book; it’s not that I’m completely turning my back on the idea of reading one a week, it’s just that I’ve recognised that sometimes, you can’t plan things. And that’s exactly where the beauty of life lies.

Image thanks to: Kate Spade

Everything’s F**ked. Here’s Some Reasons Why.

First published in Onya Magazine on March 3rd, 2011.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the world is, in no uncertain terms, screwed. I cannot remember the last time I received a bill, ordered a meal or bought something from a shop that did not require a return trip to address some issue, a phone call to clarify something or a painful exchange with someone.

And it appears I am not alone. Apparently we’ve all argued with a telecommunications company, or bought an electrical item to find it kaput when we arrived home, or simply tried to order a meal without a food substance that’s going to send us into allergic rapture…to no avail.

But we can’t all be wrong.

I’m not sure of the current unemployment rate, but I know that the incompetency rate is at an all time high. Complete and utter incompetence is washing over our great nation – and half the time it is washing over us from an offshore call centre.

I’m not sure about you, but I’m tired of spending 10 minutes spelling my name in Alpha Bravo Charlie every time I need to make an enquiry about an account – to someone listening to me on delay.

I’m sick of all the fees and taxes associated with everything to do with our lifestyle. I have a landline. I have to pay rental on my handset. Despite the fact that I purchased the handset myself. I don’t rent it. But I get charged for it. Make sense to you?

If you were to subtract the fees and charges from your monthly bills, chances are you’d be able to buy a small island in the French Riviera.

We are governed by morons, over-governed in fact, by morons that penalise the good, the honest and the hard working at every turn and allow organisations, companies and businesses to deliver inadequate goods and services.

The system, that fateful word that’s thrown around every time something crashes, is lost, or someone operating it is just too cretinous to use, is the bane of our modern existence. And it’s the same system that does not protect the innocent and most certainly does not reward those who do the right thing.

Nothing is easy anymore. Nothing is seamless. Nothing just works.

To continue reading my article, please click here.