Getting married and having children never turned me on. I thought about both of those things for two minutes. I knew at the bottom of it that marriage was a prefabricated institution that people went into mindlessly, for the most part. It’s something that people were told that you did, and they just did it because that’s what society said you were supposed to do. Then once you were together you were supposed to have this enclosure called a house and these little things running around gnawing at your feet called children. Isn’t the family unit something that was constructed to stimulate the economy? I don’t know. There are happy marriages. But there are a lot of bullshit ones. I know people married for 50, 60 years who have never been happy. They’ve had big anniversary parties and everything. People from the outside look in and think it’s wonderful. But I know the deal. My parents were married for twenty years. While our household wasn’t in turmoil I knew that they weren’t really suited for each other.
The guy I was in a relationship with for ten years wanted kids. This is part of the reason we aren’t together today. I love it – I saw this blog where kids were referred to as ‘crotch parasites’. And Maggie the Cat calls them no neck monsters. I had pretty much felt the same way until my sister had kids and I fell in love with them. They helped me to have compassion for all the slobbering brats running around with dirty hands and filthy little faces.
The relationships that I was in were probably less than suitable, except for one, because I never had relationships in my mind as a goal so to speak, therefore, I would just wind up with people, because I hadn’t really thought about what would be right for me. I’d just be walking along and here somebody would come and want to hook up and I’d say, “Ain’t got nothing better to do. Sure why not.”
There were instances where I wanted to be with a particular guy and once I was with them, I wanted it to continue. But overall, I think I’m so self-contained that being with someone else was not a huge priority. When my ex asked me to marry him it was that same “ain’t got nothing better to do” attitude. I had been with him for a while. One morning we woke up, he looked at me and said, “Let’s get married.” I said, “…Sure, why not.” He called the Justice of the Peace but they weren’t open. So we didn’t get married. Whew! Though he is a great person and I loved him, and still do care about him, I know I dodged a bullet on that one.
So I was never that girl who had been dreaming of her wedding day since she was eight years old. I did fantasize about being in love with boys and having really good sex. And I did have major crushes. As a girl, when I did dream about being with a man as an adult it was a man twenty years older who owned a boat. The recurring scene was him steering it wearing a white hat. Besides this murky image, I would often say that I would want my man to be a combination of Mr. Spock, Rod Serling, Jimi Hendrix, and Frankenstein. My boyfriends haven’t all been much older than I and a couple have even been younger.
Okay, so this is where it gets weird. When I idealize about a man now, he’s usually muuuuch older. I’ve had crushes on a couple of men in their 80s. One of them is pushing 90. I’ll be 50 in November, so this still qualifies as much older. I had my father around so I don’t know what this wanting older men thing’s about – but I won’t belabor the phenomenon. It doesn’t have anything to do with me not wanting to have sex. Oh, no, I do want a sexual relationship with them. I realize it wouldn’t be sex in the classic sense. And I know for a fact that you can have sex with someone’s mind, or something like this. There are many aspects to sex. This one guy pushing 90 I find actually sexy. There’s this whole community of them who belong to clubs, they drive, and are very active. This one gentlemen’s wife died so he actually goes out on dates, and he’s told me about friends who try hooking him up with women. I wouldn’t mind a cool, old, cult figure kind of guy with a commanding presence. Maybe a cool old artist of some kind. I’ve always been drawn to character.
At least I have more love for children now, since my sister’s had them. It opened the door for me to receive a whole level of energy that I was shut off from before. But I still don’t have any regrets about not having any of my own. I always say mine would probably wind up in mental institutions. While I still wouldn’t mind a nice old man, I always admired the women in my life who weren’t desperately looking for a man to fill up their space.
When I was a little girl I had a vision of me as an old lady dressed in black with a shot gun living alone in a small house in the woods. My dad had brought us to visit some artist friends of his once. They had kids. We all went to the room and played tarot cards. My reading said that I’d grow up to be a hermit.
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