The Marriage Trap

Over a year ago, my step-daughter, Julia, shared a story over dinner.  

Julia told the tale of a female friend, a former apartment-mate of about five years. This, late 20-something, woman had a raft of dear friends and a loving family. As a teacher, she'd secured steady and fulfilling work she enjoyed. Also, she found a romantic relationship, she hoped would become permanent. In fact, the woman pretty much planned out her entire life, contingent on her boyfriend (who was also successfully employed and continued to live at home with his parents) proposing marriage in the very near future. Well, actually, he was already running behind schedule, according to the clock ticking in her head. So, she embarked on finding them a home to purchase to move the needle a bit.

Here's the thing about this story. I have heard and lived this tale more times than I can count. The details may change, but the fundamental notion is backwards, regardless of the content.  We sell ourselves on the idea of sealing the deal on that one thing, be it marriage, getting into that one specific school (or any school!), winning the big contract, or maybe having a baby.  Our fear-based thinking convinces us this will be the glue to create the safety and security we crave.  Just that one thing to appease the need to know what happens next. And, therein lies the trap. Even if you are accepted to a school, get the contract, have the baby, or engage in marriage vows, there are no guarantees. We never really know what happens next.  In fact, if you insist on locking down a particular aspect of your life plan - it's akin to issuing an invitation to the universe to unleash it's warped sense of humor.  And, through that experience, difficult lessons are learned in a hard, rather than gentle, way.  That's okay, but ouch!

A few years after Mark and his first wife divorced, I asked him to marry me. 

Did I love him, yes. But it may be wise to remember, for most of my life, I had been the "never going to get married - never going to have kids" person. So, why the change of heart? Did I want to start a family of my own. Nope! In fact, I knew that I didn't want to have children with Mark. I saw how he struggled as a father, and the strain his children put on our relationship. Plus, I'm just not a kid person, and while far too many people tried to tell me I'd change my mind, for years, there was rarely a day that went by that I wasn't deep-in-my-bones-grateful that we never had our own kids. I'm absurdly appreciative for the relationship I have with my step-daughter. It's one of those little unexpected miracles, I could never have seen coming. And still, I have zero regrets about the absence of birthing any babies.

What then, motivated my marriage proposal to Mark, one night, walking back to his car, after eating dinner in Harvard Square? I wanted to know he was mine. That he picked me. I believed, if we got married, all of the doubts and fears I had about whether or not we could make it together - all of my doubts and fears about myself, would be washed away through the permanent ink of a marriage certificate.

While we've now been married 25 years (as of today Jan 1st), my plan failed miserably! 

I cannot count the times in our relationship when the walls, of whatever house we lived in, might have come tumbling down - either from the raucous yelling and mean-spirited accusations or the vibrations of deadly silence. And, what were the worst of those years? The early ones, when I most sought safety outside of myself.

Getting married yielded no sense of security whatsoever. Instead, I was stretched, challenged, thrown one curve ball after another, forcing me to learn, in the most painful ways - neither of us could make the other feel safe. NO thing, outside of our respective inner relationships with our individual selves, could get us in touch with the inherent safety within. There is no amount of money earned. No car fast enough. No sex great enough. No amount of time spent together or apart, that could save me from the anger, sadness, and fear I wished to avoid.

Here's the other thing getting married did NOT do for me: it didn't make me more worthy of love. It didn't make me higher on the social ladder. It didn't make me feel complete, or believe I was a better person. I don't know if I thought it would do all of those things, but I wished it might prove something good about me. Instead, the opposite happened. I faced, in a million different instances, evidence of how I was unacceptable - not wanted - too much - not good at SO many things - and just not enough. Ugh! 

While I am speaking of the marriage trap, it's really any place control freakery runs rampant.   

The amount of control we grasp for is always in direct proportion to the amount of fear we are feeling. To avoid that fear, we seek a solution - a way to manage - so that the fear may be stuffed into a quiet corner. Here's the tricky thing - the fear is still there. Just because you aren't attending to it, doesn't mean you haven't become a slave to it.

Beginning in high school, I sold items for every fundraiser going. From candy and cloth wall calendars to magazines and wrapping paper, I cranked out those sales. In my once-upon-a-time professional life, I sold: cruises, photocopiers, advertising, people (as a recruiter), funerals, organizational services, and real estate. Ready for the trap? I was only ever as good as my last sale. I'd get the high from winning a contest or playing matchmaker between a corporation and a new employee, and then crash when I had to start all over again the next day. It didn't matter how much I sold, it was never enough to remind me that, who I am is inherently safe.

The same can be said for any five year plan, most new year's resolutions, and locking down that one thing you think you need to be okay.  

A funny example comes to mind for this one. When I offered my first Costa Rica retreat, three brave souls signed up to participate. One of them experienced some flight delays, and sent a text saying, "I'll be fine as long as my luggage arrives!" To which I responded, "Actually, you'll be okay whether your luggage arrives or not." "HAHA, yeah, but I just really want my luggage to get there." Here's why this entire exchange was hilarious to me. The retreat was titled "Embracing Magic." The theme of the week: learning to surrender control of an outcome. Clearly, this person got a head start on this work, right?! In alignment with cosmic humor, the luggage did NOT arrive until a couple of days later. We all get exactly what we need, even if it's not what we think we want.

Circling back around to "Inherent Safety." Unless you've worked directly with me, this term may have no content. Inherent safety is the knowing that the essence of who I be (human BE-ing), will be okay, no matter what happens. Scary, sad, and generally awful stuff happens, and I can trust myself to meet that (even if I have to circle the block a few times to get still), because, eventually - if not immediately - I'm willing to feel my own emotions. By making friends with my own uncomfortable feelings, I have come to trust myself. Through that trust, I can feel anger and still be safe. I may experience fear, and still be safe between me and me. When sadness wells up, the only real risk presents when I turn away from my true feelings - other than that, I'm inherently safe. This theory proves true with the emotions we like to think of as "desirable," too. Making friends with joy, love, gratitude, and peace matters just as much. Running from or short-circuiting these emotions (what Gay Hendricks refers to as the "Upper Limit Problem" - essentially, self-sabotage resulting from not yet expanding the capacity to feel these feelings), plants just as many seeds of self-doubt as running from the anger, burying the fear, or ignoring the sadness.

How do my high school candy sales relate to Julia's friend who wants to get married?  

Or even your own belief that you'll be okay, when you get that promotion? If you attach your worth - your value - your safety - or your identity to something or someone outside of you, you may get a quick hit of validation, except, you're screwed, because it traps you in a cycle. Only by looking beneath - to see what is motivating that desire, and then willingly being with the fear residing in that dark corner, may one take back the power of inherent safety. Sometimes, recognizing that NOT getting the promotion might be the gift.  Perhaps, when the promotion falls through, you get to listen to how sad you feel doing the work you're doing...which may lead you to a new step in your path - something that lights you up.  Except, if you are so firmly attached to the the singular outcome, you may miss the magic being offered.

I invite you to be brave.  Look at any one thing outside yourself that you believe you must have to be "okay." Then, get still and curious. Listen deeply to what you think you will have or feel, if you got that one thing. And allow a wonderment to arise about whether you might actually be okay without it. If the answer is "no, I will not be okay without it" listen to the inner voice who is asking for your attention - that part of you seeking acceptance. That inner, often younger, self  seeks a love and acceptance ONLY you can offer to connect to your true inherent safety.

A note about Julia's friend

The couple did move in together, and they both acquired, even better, jobs. A month or so ago, the couple closed on the purchase of their first home. As of this writing, to the best of my knowledge, the two are not engaged. And, still, there exists this sense of urgency - a belief that locking down the relationship "officially" will make life better. From both my personal and professional experience, I perceive this as her path to learn some challenging lessons. There is no judgment in that. Sometimes we get to learn things easily - sometimes only the hard way will do. We all need to find our way, to learn what we're here to learn, on whatever road is ours to travel. I think she's claimed this as hers. May she (and you) find grace and healing with each step in this new year and beyond.

With love and compassion,

Joanne