I’m an acupuncturist, 35, dating again after a difficult divorce and the ensuing custody battle. I’m shocked at how many men either want to see (i.e., sleep with) several women simultaneously or keep me as a geisha to “complement” their pre-existing wives and/or girlfriends. Could the world have changed THAT much during my 10 years exiled in marriage? I’m ready to leap out of the lotus position and wave my hands in the air over this! Are other women experiencing the same thing, or is the grass truly greener on the other side of the Great Wall?
--Spiritual Girl In A Material World
A Zen state without the enlightenment is a style statement: grass mats covering the ugly shag, a red plastic Buddha to liven up the coffee table (goes great with the $34.99 Woodstock Desk Gong from Target), and, of course, the obligatory floor pillows -- intricately embroidered, and probably a real steal thanks to child labor!
What does being “spiritual” really mean, anyway? For too many people, it’s a sneaky way of announcing how morally and emotionally superior they are to the rest of us; i.e., “I wear hemp, and you’re scum.” And sure, they’re giving some confused little old lady driver the finger -- but note the Sanskrit words for peace, love, and unity henna-tattooed across their knuckles! Being “spiritual” can also be a great excuse for avoiding the tedious business of rational thought. Take “karma,” the eastern version of the naughty getting snubbed by Santa; the alluring idea that people eventually get what they deserve. Have you ever met a maggot who could definitively say he was Heinrich Himmler in past life?
Chances are, you have met hundreds, even thousands, of men who want commitment-free sex -- sometimes because they’ve already committed to one or more other women. Is the fact that men are into this sort of thing really news to you? If so, where have you been living the past 10 years, under the Great Wall? Quite frankly, if straight guys could do what gay guys can -- go to a bar and pretty effortlessly snag some no-strings-attached sex -- a lot of them would. All that stands between them and their dream is the fact that they’re into women, most of whom refuse to participate.
What’s unreasonable is your expectation that men in your life would be any different, conforming to some airy-fairy way you think the world should work. It’s kind of like going on a hike believing vegetarianism will give you special protection: Just wave a Tofurky wrapper at a grizzly, point to your pleather shoes, and he should bound off in search of somebody in leather boots who lunched on a Quarter Pounder.
There are men out there who want a one man/one woman relationship. But, you aren’t one woman; you’re one contentiously divorced woman with one or more kids, and perhaps an angry ex-husband lurking on the perimeter, and maybe residual anger of your own. Under the circumstances, it’s going to be hard to get men to see you as more than the nude understudy.
Take down the angels and unicorns, or whatever you’ve been using to block out the hard glare of the real world, and you might get somewhere -- like, to the realization that you’re more likely to get what you want from a man whose situation is similar to yours. Accepting reality has got to be more productive than huffing and puffing and waving your hands in the air -- assuming you’re looking to draw love into your life, not trying to create “Downward Dog’s” new best friend, “Hyperventilating Chicken.”
My boyfriend, who's lived with me for four years, is still married. His wife and I are good friends, and I don’t mind their friendship at all. (They’ve known each other since high school and have a 9-year-old daughter.) Recently, when his wife and I were both at a family gathering, my boyfriend thought it would be funny to point out that I’m actually not his wife, she is. I got very upset and left the party because he is not the sheik of Saudi Arabia and I am not part of his harem. We got in an argument and broke up. He says it was just a joke. Do you think I overreacted?
--Lost My Sense Of Humor
Nothing says “You’re the one!” quite like a marriage certificate inscribed with the name of the other “one.”
Marriage generally signifies a lifelong commitment to another person (unless the two people marrying are Hollywood stars, in which case, it may signify a weekend commitment). Remaining legally married to one woman is typically a major impediment to becoming the long-term, live-in boyfriend of another. While relationships do come in varying forms these days, a guy with an interest in spending all or part of the rest of his life with somebody would be wise (and kind) to first dispense with spending the rest of his life with somebody else.
Did you really need to wait for your boyfriend to rub your nose in his marital status to notice you were smelling something, and it wasn’t the April Fresh Scent of Downy? Perhaps there’s some compelling reason they’re still officially together -- like, if they divorce, the little girl won’t inherit Great Uncle Nutso’s bazillions. Or, perhaps it has more to do with the four years you’ve spent underreacting to their marriage, to the tune of Kumbaya. Evidently, you were fine with him having his cake, and your cake, too -- providing he didn’t advertise it: “Family, gather round, say hello to my mistress! Grandma, you remember my concubine?”
How lovely that you’re “good friends” with his wife. What do you two talk about, how he misses the bowl, and whether his herpes has cleared up yet? Obviously, relationship communism -- what’s yours is hers, and what’s hers is officially hers -- is a failed experiment. It’s one thing if you truly don’t care. It’s another thing entirely, if, between group hugs, you’re building up a Chernobyl-like core of resentment because you can’t even squeeze bigamy out of the guy.
According to Dr. Harriet Lerner, in The Dance of Anger, this kind of suck-it-up “niceness” suggests you think having a relationship is more important than having a self. Eventually, the self refuses to stay sucked, and comes out in the worst of ways. For example, an unwillingness to calmly assert yourself from the start probably explains why a joking stab at irony by your boyfriend led to a public tantrum and a relationship-ending blow-out. Think about it: If somebody asks, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” you probably don’t scream “Racist pig!” -- unless chickens at intersections somehow represent a racial sore spot for you. You WERE part of this guy’s “harem,” and if that didn’t work for you, the time to inform him, “it’s her or me, not her AND me,” was four-plus years ago. This might not have stopped the guy from racking up more wedding anniversaries -- but it probably would’ve saved you four years smiling through gritted teeth while trying to slow-dance with a 135-pound wife hanging off your back.