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.

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.

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

A Few Things I’ve Learned, Continued…

  • You cannot limit your life – by standards, ideals, beliefs and superstition. Life is there to be lived, so live.
  • For some people, there is no such thing as enough.
  • Occasionally, the grass is greener on the other side.
  • Sometimes the people in life that have known you the longest, actually know you the least.
  • The best things you can collect in life are not books, or shoes, or CDs – they are friends.
  • You always have a choice. It will surprise you how easy it is to make some of them.
  • Success has different definitions for different people. No one is an arbiter of success.
  • Being positive is a great deal more challenging than being negative, but it is far more rewarding.
  • Don’t do anything in life for anyone with the intention of seeking praise or thanks. Most of the time, you will not get it. And then you will moan and howl about all that you did for them and why you were never praised or thanked. And at the end of it all, nothing will have changed. So either don’t do things for people, or accept that when you do, there’s every chance you will not be shown any gratitude.
  • John Lennon once said, “We are all Christ and we are all Hitler.” They may be extremes but the truth is there is good and bad in everyone. People are capable of the virtuous and the reprehensible. Most usually hover somewhere between.
  • Acting like a victim will ensure that you become one.
  • “This, too, shall pass,” is the kindest reminder. Because it always does.

Read the first  A Few Things I’ve Learned

I’m Just Not That Into Them.

Earlier this year I made a decision to not spend any time with people that I don’t like.

I cannot tell you how incredibly liberating that decision has been.

There’s a certain freedom attached to being honest – with yourself and with others. And my decision has also resulted in another welcome side effect: the gaining of time.

I value time. Heck, we all complain that there is not enough of it.

It’s not until you stop doing some things that you realise we, perhaps, may not be as time poor as we like to think we are.

We’re just spending our time on the wrong things.

In my case, on the wrong people. People that, honestly, I’m just not that into.

I’ve realised there’s nothing wrong with saying that. There are an abundance of people in my life that I do care about.

And what I have now discerned is that it’s cretinous to not spend time with people I love, and find time for people that I simply don’t.

I have spent a lot of time – on the telephone, across wooden tables at cafes, over email – talking and listening to people that I wouldn’t carry a torch for.

And I’m only interested in having people in my life that I admire, and respect, and like. People that I carry a torch for, and people that carry one for me in return.

I don’t need fillers in my life. I know too many amazing people to settle for anyone second rate. I have no interest in bearing depleted energy levels thanks to someone I don’t take a liking to – because I’ve realised I don’t actually care what they are saying, and feigning interest is a way of lying to myself.

The truth is; I don’t care. About them. Their opinion. Their life. Their family.

And that’s where the freedom enters. I have cleared entire folders in my brain, created literal space, just by clicking delete.

Someone I don’t like rang me the other day. I took their call – and I didn’t bother being delighted about it, because I wasn’t. I didn’t bother asking them how they were, because I didn’t care. I didn’t stretch the conversation out any further than what I could be bothered with, because I couldn’t be bothered.  I didn’t say the common tagline we all throw around, “We should catch up soon,” because I don’t want to. As such, the phone call was pleasant, but short.

That same day, I spoke to three other people – that I love. Those conversations were longer, happier, full of bother and interest.

The magnificent thing about the whole process is: there’s nothing hard about it. The only hard part is being honest with yourself and admitting that there are people you know that you don’t care about. People in your life that you’re just not that into.

I have unfriended, hidden and unfollowed all the people I don’t like on social media sites I use. I have deleted contacts from my BlackBerry. I have delisted, directed and dispersed of all the useless crap in my life – including people.

And I’ve never felt better.

Song.

I read this poem this evening. And I thought, ‘how true, how good.’

Song

Victor J Daley

(1858-1905)

What shall a man remember

In days when he is old,

And Life is a dying ember,

And Fame a story told?

Power – that came to leave him?

Wealth – to the wild waves blown?

Fame – that came to deceive him?

Ah, no! Sweet Love alone!

Honour, and Wealth, and Power

May all like dreams depart –

But Love is a fadeless flower

Whose roots are in the heart.

Sometimes You’ve Got To Leap. Just Because.

Sometimes in life, you’ve got to leap. Into the unknown. Into something new. Sometimes, into someone new.

That might mean slowing down.

Or speeding up.

It might mean spending less time out, and more time in.

Working harder.

Or working less.

It could mean breaking away.

Changing the mould.

Spending less time with people you always have, and more time with people you’ve always wanted to.

Branching out.

Doing what you want to do.

Sometimes, you’ve got to draw a line in the sand.

Change the way you act.

Think.

And are.

Become someone who hunts for what they want.

Lives for what they love.

Someone that chooses the hard road.

Someone that pushes the boundaries.

Someone that adds fuel to the fire.

Someone that gets it.

Wants it.

Finds it.

Just because.

Just because you don’t want to be that kind of person.

The kind that never branch out.

Never think differently.

Do the same thing.

Run the same race.

The kind that never push the boundaries.

That never want for more than what they know.

The kind that cower, not hunt.

Choose the easy road.

Have a thirst for nothing.

That just don’t get it.

Sometimes, it’s easier being that kind of person.

Comfortable.

Sarcastic.

Inclusive.

But it’s also mind-numbingly boring.

Devoid of personality and individuality.

Bereft of good and honest people.

Sometimes, you’ve got to be the other person.

That leaps.

Evolves.

Expands.

Someone who makes it.

In your own way.

On your own terms.

Just because.

Image featuring my superstar friend Liv Hambrett, taken from A Big Life.

A Few Things I’ve Learned…

  • Find something you love doing and do it, every day. No matter what.
  • You can have it all. Whether you want it all is a separate issue. Have what you like.
  • We are not all born equal. Use that to your advantage.
  • Many people go through life expecting certain things to happen to them, simply because they feel it’s their right. Well, it’s not. If you want something, you’ve got to make it happen. Hey, you may even have to work for it.
  • Inspiration is something you create. You don’t have to wait for a moment to strike. Stop stalling. Start creating.
  • Don’t be afraid to stop. Breathe. Meander. Stroll. Cruise. Fiddle. What’s the rush?
  • We all have our own way of doing things. No one person has the best method. Be patient. It’s the key.
  • People will always talk and gossip. Even when you try to do everything to please them. So go out and give them something to really talk about. Be bold and outrageous. Get their tongues wagging.
  • Some people aren’t worth it. You’ll know the ones. Create lasting bonds with people who are worth it and fleeting moments with people who aren’t. It’ll change your life.
  • Helping yourself is by far the easiest and most efficient way to help others.
  • Move on. Get over it. Build your bridge. Don’t forget. Hell, don’t even forgive. Just. Move. On.
  • You actually don’t have to accept people for who they are. Some people aren’t wonderful or lovely or nice or friendly, so why accept them?
  • Allow yourself to get swept up in things – no matter how silly or daggy or dorky they may seem. Don’t think you are too cool for anything. You’re not.
  • If you constantly accept ridicule – from a workmate, a “friend”, anyone – then you most probably deserve it. If you constantly turn the other cheek then you deserve to be slapped. Grow some balls (whether you are a man or a woman) and stick up for yourself.
  • If you aren’t always honest with others, it’s a shame. If you aren’t always honest with yourself, it’s a tragedy.
  • Excuses are the tiny threads that keep many things going for much longer than they need to – careers, friendships, conversations, plans, goals – if it’s not happening, it’s never going to. Wake up. Put your effort into something else.
  • Try and pinpoint exactly why it is that you want to impress people that don’t give two hoots about you. Impress the people that actually care about you. F#@k the strangers.
  • Try and learn something new every day. It’s surprising how many people don’t.
  • The more you do, the more you’ll want to do. Choose to do things that have merit. Motivation is a powerful side-effect of the ‘more you do = more you want to do’ philosophy. Addiction is a hop, step and a jump away. Watch that line.
  • Some people won’t ever understand you. Either because they can’t wrap their minds around you, or they aren’t willing to. Their loss.
  • Choosing sides is never easy, but it’s much better than always sitting on the fence.
  • You may not always be able to change your situation, but you can always change your attitude.
  • Self-indulgence is the bed that many, many great things were consummated in. That doesn’t mean you get to act like a dick. Be self-indulgent. But don’t let it take over you.
  • Sticks and stones may break your bones? So what, they’ll heal. Words can never hurt you? Rubbish. They do. And they hurt more than a rock to the head. Words are powerful. Use them wisely.
  • Everything happens for a reason. We may not be sure why, but that’s the point.
  • There will always be someone in the world wishing for terrible things to happen to you; an enemy, a friend, a jealous acquaintance. Refrain from acting like them. Kill them with your brilliance instead.
  • Some people just don’t get ‘it’. Give up trying to make them.
  • Disappointment and hurt is everywhere in life. Happiness and wonder is also everywhere in life. Choose what you decide to focus on.

What I Realised Tonight…

  • VIP. An acronym so fierce it brings out the worst in people. Whilst it’s nice having those little letters on a ticket (I sure don’t mind them) it’s also not a signpost of being ‘someone’. Everyone’s someone. Perhaps, for some people, Vile Irritating Person is a much better definition of VIP.

Tonight, I went to the Designer Series 2 Runway Parade, as a part of Melbourne Spring Fashion Week. And not because of, but rather in spite of doing so, I realised a lot of things about myself. And other people. Things I knew, but maybe didn’t recognise.

And I’m not sure why tonight, of all the nights, of all the years, this realisation struck me, but it did.

  • I realised that I’m not interested in standing out of the crowd because of the label on the inside of my dress. Or because of the size of my waist. Or the length of my hair. Or because of my seat number. I’m far more interested in standing out of the crowd because of the content kept between my ears. Because of what I do. Because of how I do it. Because of what kind of person I am.
  • I realised that the only time I ever care about being in the front row is when my husband’s on a stage, singing into a microphone, with a piano under his fingertips or a guitar in his arms. Anything that is not that, is, quite simply, not that.
  • I realised that smiles are facetious. None of the ones I got tonight bore any resemblance to the ones my dad shoots my way when I walk through his door for a visit. None of them come close to the ones my four year old nephew beams after playing tiggy, or wrestling on the couch. They are not filled with love or wit or admiration or cheek. They are hollow and devious and full of plots and plans.
  • I realised that looks will only get you so far. The title on your business card will only get you so far. But the talent that you have speaks volumes. It’s about doing, instead of being. Using it, instead of showing it.
  • I realised that most ‘things’ in life are overpriced. That true quality can’t be bought, it’s made, and you can’t put a price on things that are made. Nor can you place a value on things that matter – maybe not most of all – but in making your night just that little bit better;
  • driving on an open road, music bouncing around your car, spurring you on,
  • falling into a warm bed, wrapped in the arms of your lover,
  • hot tea in a big mug,
  • toast with honey and cinnamon,
  • your feet sliding into ugg boots on a cold night
  • I realised that glamour can only be had when you’re truly happy and content, and that nothing’s uglier than pretending to be so.

I realised that style lasts. Substance endures. And everything else just ends up in a pile on the floor, or filling the inside of a bin. And you make the choice as to where you want to go. Because of what you do. Because of how you do it. Because of what kind of person you are.