Our Bodies, Ourselves (30 page)

Astrid:
My daughter's father and I split up when she was three (she is ten now), and he immediately plunged into an intense dating life that led to a continuous string of girlfriends, none of whom lasted for more than a year. My daughter was routinely introduced to them early on—is there anything more endearing and attractive to a new woman than a guy showing off the daughter he dotes on?

I always felt it was my duty to shield my child from a similar experience on my end of things. I have no regrets about setting these priorities—I have never even questioned them. That said, I am finally starting to feel the absence of a grown-up at the dinner table, someone to vent to about how the day has gone. I am forty-seven years old and have spent so many years without a partner that I am not certain I could fit anybody back into my life. But as my daughter gets older, I know I should open up to that possibility again.

Cheryl:
I had my sons when I was fifteen and nineteen. Their father was my first boyfriend, and we ended our relationship in my early twenties. I have been dating as a single mom ever since. In my twenties it was much harder to date because most men my age were not comfortable with the idea that I was a mother. They were at a different place in their lives. That was disheartening at times, but along the way I met some great guys who were willing to explore a relationship with me. Of those relationships, my children have only met two men, because until the relationship seems like it may have a long-term future in my life, I don't think it is necessary to involve my children.

I prefer to date men who have children and are active parents, mostly because there tends to be more understanding about the balance
of dating and parenting. The man I am currently dating is a single father. Single parenting and dating are difficult at times, and us both having to figure out child care and how to integrate our families into our relationships has presented some real challenges. He is currently deployed to Afghanistan, but we have begun to discuss the future of our relationship and I can foresee that when he gets home we will really have to tackle the blended family challenges.

Heidi:
When I was married, I found out that my husband had an affair when I was pregnant with my son. I would think that without children, I would have left right away. I had two children when I found out about it, which was almost a year after their affair had ended. In this case, I think that having kids made me try to make the relationship work. In the end, I found out that he was talking to her again, so I asked him to move out.

I do not date often, but when I do I find it quite difficult. I won't date a person I wouldn't want my children to date someday. And by this I don't mean the exact person—age issues might make that a bit weird—but the type of person. I want to model behaviors that I feel are appropriate for my children, or at least not give them a bad example whenever possible. I have dated people who have invited me to meet their children in the first week, and I find that scary. I don't want people cycling in and out of their lives.

Also, my children are still quite young, and as a student, I do not have a lot of money for things like babysitters. Because of this, it becomes quite difficult to have a life away from them, to meet new people, or to date.

Sloane:
My parents had four children and got divorced after thirteen years of marriage. I was in fifth grade when they split. I was—I don't want to say glad—maybe
relieved
that they decided to divorce. They fought a lot and were not well matched.

Now I'm in my own marriage and have to face the question sometimes when things get really bad, when we fight and scream and say horrible things that we don't mean: Should we stay married? Should we raise our son in the midst of this?

A child undeniably and hugely does factor into the equation. I'm very conscientious about what my son is experiencing. I find myself debating, though, about what the bigger picture is. I wonder if being a child of divorce predisposes me to want to cut and run—and will I be modeling that? I wonder if seeing how my husband and I work through our issues will make my son better able to weather his storms. My husband and I love each other. No doubt there. We also need to find a better way to handle conflict. We aren't hopeless, though. We've not been married long, but have been a work in progress for about ten years, and we have improved the way we fight.

I am much more aware of how we fight now that we have a child. How that affects the staying power of our relationship remains to be seen. I guess I won't know the answer until I know it.

Victoria:
I have two young daughters, and I really empathize with how it is difficult to be in a relationship with someone who has kids—except that I'm not dating. My partner and I are just trying to figure out how to be parents and also have a relationship with each other as adults like we did before we had children. And some days it all feels very balanced and joyful, and other days it feels like we're on some crappy reality show where you're forced to try and reason with a screaming child and your only help is a pseudospouse the show has chosen for you who doesn't share any of your values.

I cannot imagine trying to establish a relationship with someone new while also trying to parent my girls. It's hard enough to maintain a relationship with a partner I know and love deeply.

© Jack B. Pierson

Lydia:
It's often an exhausting (even if rewarding) experience to remember that my girlfriend does not have the same life experiences and personality that I do, and thus isn't necessarily reading situations the same way I do, or making the same assumptions about what my responses mean. Good communication is so much more than simply speaking up and listening, something I realize now more than ever. It's actually taking the time to break down what we're saying to each other and what exactly it
means
to both of us.

Sloane:
We've just entered a new construction zone with the arrival of our son, now nine months old. I work full-time, my husband is at home taking care of the boy, I'm nursing and have a low libido, I had an unwanted C-section, which has put off our plans of having a second child. It's hard to analyze the situation while in the midst of it, but it's safe to say that I'm realizing again how much work this relationship stuff is.

Ananda:
Early on in living with my partner there were the issues of money (especially since I made more money than he did), housekeeping (can be an eternal struggle if you are really opposite on standards of cleanliness or clutter), work (taking too much time and energy), not enough
time together or too much time together, and family/children. Over time we have gotten better at not letting these things become obstacles. The first couple of years of my relationship with my primary partner we fought all the time; now we rarely fight and it does not take long to solve or agree to disagree and move on.

Jaime:
I approached living with my partner very closely to how I approached living with nonpartner roommates. That is, beforehand we sat down and planned out how housekeeping and cooking would get done, who would contribute what amount of money to household expenses, what activities are and are not permitted in the house, etc. What hurts our relationship is that our standards and methods of housekeeping are not the same, and this is exacerbated by the fact that I am a woman and he is a man. We've been socialized on the matter differently, and then when we see ourselves playing out these stereotypical, harmful gender roles, it adds even more stress to the relationship, aside from the fact that I do more than my share of housekeeping and often ask him to please keep up with his.

This is not to say that I've never lived with messy women; I have, and that is also stressful. The gendered aspect of it really is problematic for us, though, and the fact that we are partners, not just roommates. If we continue to live together, we intend to hire someone to do the cleaning once I have a full-time job and we can afford it. I am totally willing to exchange money for peace in my relationship. I tell you, the next partner I live with must be as tidy as I am. I can't spend my life like this.

Jordan:
It really is hard to find people who feel as strongly as I do about a lot of social issues. And it does become a barrier, because I cringe when a partner calls something “crazy” or doesn't understand why something is misogynistic. A big part of becoming more outspoken has also involved being more confident about advocating for myself, and I can't be in relationships with people who don't respect that.

Efia:
A single person goes through an infinite number of transitions in life from child to adult, active to inactive, unemployed to employed, nonsexual to sexual, etc. It only makes sense that it's twice as difficult when two or more people decide to combine their experiences, finances, living space, food choices, and whatever else to coexist without undoing everything they've done to become distinct individuals who are trying to establish some identity away from their families or particular upbringing. Once you have a pretty firm grasp on who you are or might be, why in the world would anyone want you to change? Compromise, unconditional love, and acceptance are the hardest things to realize and exercise in relationships, I think.

Jordan:
Cultural acceptance of sexual assault and violence has made it really complicated for me to talk to partners. I fear discussing my rapes with partners because I think, even when my partners are good people, that I will encounter “Why didn't you do this?” “Why didn't you report it?” “Was it really rape?” It means that I can't talk with my partners about why sometimes I freeze up, or shut down, why certain things trigger me, why sometimes I really do not feel like being physically intimate at all. I always feel like I have to hide part of myself in my relationships and as a result it makes it really hard for me to be fully invested on an emotional level because I am constantly performing. And it makes me question how much I can expect a partner to give when I cannot and will not give all of myself.

Astrid:
I have been married twice (with a child from my second marriage). I have been
beaten by both of my husbands and raped (only once, at least as far as I remember) by my first husband.

I am trying to not let the past experience of physical violence impact my sex life. Much of this abuse I try to simply forget. I have been working with a wonderful, caring therapist ever since my second marriage came to an end, and I am quite confident that I won't fall into the same traps again. Perhaps I am now too cautious and have blocked decent, kind possible partners from my life in the last years—but I'd rather err on the side of caution these days.

It is strange how time can heal. I am forty-seven years old and at least the rape I encountered is more than twenty years in the past. I am convinced there will be more men, more relationships, even some playfulness in my life in the years ahead. The older I get, the more I enjoy sex and the less vulnerable I feel. Perhaps it helps that I have learned to pick better and to say no. Perhaps it is a cheap fix to try to shut out of my mind, as best as I can, those past experiences of violence. But I cannot—I just
cannot
—allow the men who hurt me in the past to take away the pleasure in sex that I am looking forward to in years to come.

Gemma:
He was only the second person I ever had sex with. He played rugby with my best guy friend. I wanted to have sex with him. I'd been flirting with him for weeks, and I was excited when it finally seemed to have paid off.

But once we were in my room, it wasn't what I had been hoping for at all. He was really forceful. He held my arms down at my sides; he pushed me onto the bed facedown at one point. I didn't think it was okay to stop him at that point, because I didn't want to seem like I was a prude who couldn't handle a little rough stuff. But I tried to draw the line when he wanted to take off the condom I'd put on him. Unfortunately he didn't listen to me.