no such thing as perfect

I realized something today. Well actually I realized it many times before but as I've been trying to come up with a smart blogpost everyday for the past week and still haven't come up with anything, I asked myself what exactly I was trying to write about anyway.

I mean, every day I browse dozens of articles on Huffington Post (they have sections on women, weddings, divorce...) I read blog posts from different people of different ages and different places, and I have at least 8 or 9 books at home also on the very same topic; in recent weeks, I've interviewed couples on the realities of marriage and I talk about this with anyone who cares to to hear different perspectives and different takes and try to boil it down to something concrete. Something useful. I'm talking about the recipe for a good relationship, of course.

And am I better girlfriend for it? I don't think so. You see what I noticed is that everyone has their own kind of relationship and you know what? There's just no labeling it. The other day I read a post on open relationships and although in some way it seems like a smart solution to the modern couple, it is also impossible for me to actually imagine having it. But then again, when a gay friend of mine explains to me that wanting and having sexual intercourse with men other than his boyfriend has absolutely nothing to do with his love for him and their relationship, I understand it. I even accept it. Although I would never accept it for me. And all these questions we try to find answers to: should we move in together? I mean statistically is that better or worse for your couple on the long run? Because I read an article that confused the hell out of me and all I got from it is that it works for some people and doesn't work for others... Big surprise. Well what about marriage? How soon is too soon? Can we have a baby without getting married? Look at Angelina and Brad --it took 6 kids from 4 different countries before she agreed to wear a ring. But then again if you do that in Lebanon than your child will be registered as a bastard and society as a whole will "frown upon" you.

I look around and see the people surrounding me and I honestly can't compare my relationship to any of theirs. Although the patterns are similar and the feelings are similar, it's never like 2+2. So what's the point, right? If none of us have the same story and if advice doesn't apply to everyone, then why read books and why write this blog? I think that by sharing, we learn more about ourselves. We take the things that do apply and adapt them the way we see fit. Trial and error and tears, and maybe you'll end up with your own recipe. Just note that you'll probably have to change it with the next person in your life.

got one!

I was browsing through Pinterest and saw this:

Funny.

But more seriously: oh so true. I mean the relief of every bride out there telling herself that "phewww, I got one" is palpable. Just like the stress of unmarried girls between the ages of 25 to 35 is one you can cut through with a knife. And the social pressure of it all makes it so that if you are 27, not at all "stressed" about ending up a "spinster" and without the hint of a white dress on your mind, everyone else around you makes it so that you will be stressed, one way or another. I went to Italy with my Parisian for two weeks and at least 4 people asked me if he had proposed. No, he didn't propose. We've only been together 7 months. He doesn't even believe in marriage, and frankly, neither do I, I would only get married to have kids.

But there it is: the stress factor. So did you get one yet? Or are you going to end up alone for the rest of your life? Well I don't mean to be the Grinch that stole weddings, but seriously, "getting one," even on paper, even on holy scriptures, it really doesn't mean that you wont end up alone anyway.

Take this for example: the other day I was sitting with three women: my aunt, my dad's girlfriend and my uncle's girlfriend, and they were telling me how: one of them was married at 19 and divorced by the time she was my age (27), the other was the last of her friends to be married (at 30) and the first to be divorced (at 32), and my dear aunt who got married at 31 lost her husband to Cancer 8 months ago, making her a widow at the ripe age of 53, and has to spend the rest of her life alone, even though she had a good one. But, my dad and his girlfriend have been together for 10 years now, and they might very well be together for the rest of their lives, and yet they don't feel the need to get married at all. It's like once you're passed a certain age, and you've already been divorced, then no one will pressure you about it.

Well, I say no pressure from the start. Seriously, I mean, if you want to get married and believe it's the right thing for you, then by all means, have your perfect day and hopefully a happily ever after marriage. But for all the others, I really believe we need to tone down the social pressure. It no longer makes any sense in this day an age and honestly, it breaks more couples (and morale) than it makes brides and grooms. Women start pressuring their significant others because they are pressured by their moms, dads, aunts, sisters, and because they see all their girlfriends getting married and they don't want to be the last one to go --it makes them feel like they failed the pre-set story board of life, that's been told to them ever since they were little girls. And men also feel the pressure from their girlfriends and their parents and they might end up proposing even if it's not really what they want or what they are ready for. And then what happens? Divorce rates in Lebanon have risen from 13% in 2000 to 20% in 2011, and that's only considering religious marriages. I have two divorced friends and they're not even 30 years old.

I think you only really "get one" if you've spent ten, fifteen, twenty years of your life as a couple and still want to be together. I think you deserve a huge party and a wedding and fireworks when you've made it that far, when you've been through thick and thin and stuck together, when life has tried and failed you, and you've both come out on top.

when the good stuff comes out

I know I spend a lot of time nit-picking on relationship imbalances, blaming guys for all sorts of devilish attitudes and sometimes it seems like I'm portraying women as victims. The truth is I only talk about themes that appear in my life or in my friends' lives, and it so happens that these are the stories I get. But this week I got a lot of time to look at everything from a different perspective, and I saw something in men that I hadn't seen in a long time.

I was at a wedding in Larnaca on Saturday, the only one I've been to this summer, and it was the sort of wedding where everything was about their love and nothing else. It was so simple --no fluff, no fuss, no one cared about the flower center piece or a big light show or fireworks or whatever it is they do at weddings. Yet there was nothing simple about the way these two felt about each other, how happy they were, and how happy we were to be really sharing this moment. There were 100 guests, so it was intimate, you see. When we danced, the entire party was on the dance floor. The bride was beautiful because of the sheer glow in her eyes and the groom looked at her adoringly and it made us all believe in love. Not one person was sitting there criticizing the dress or the decoration or the choice of entertainment. No one cared and everyone had a wonderful time. A genuine moment, if you know what I mean.

Now in the same week, two of my girls met guys that for once had a very genuine, very healthy approach to flirting. And their first reactions, both of them, was surprise. A guy who actually calls when he says he will, really? A guy who actually stays when you refuse to "go back to his place"? A guy who compliments you for being interesting and fun and "amazing" and is actually listening to the things you say? We kind of forgot they existed. And at first, it's almost boring --because we're not used to liking a guy that doesn't shift our emotions seventy times per minute. But then we realize what it is: the no fluff, no fuss, simple "getting to know each other," when the goal is not to have sex tonight. It still happens, we just forgot.

Even the Rats... they haven't been quoted much lately because, guess what: almost every one of them is in a relationship, and to be honest, they are all amazingly good boyfriends --as far as I can tell. Even though they can be the biggest Rats when they are single, they all have a loverboy side to them and they enjoy it. And it's all wonderful, but it doesn't make for great blog material because who wants to hear about perfect happiness in Lalaland?

So I had a good week, so full of love that I decided I couldn't be cynical and I was just going to mention the good stuff. Maybe it's not the stuff that make a good blog, but it's the stuff that make the good life.

when did we get to that age?

Summer used to be about the beach. It used to be about the sun and the sea and the fact that we didn't have anything to do for three months except sun-tan and have a good time. It used to be about a week in Faqra in August, a trip by boat every once in a while, beach parties at night. But somewhere along the way, summers have come and gone merging into the other seasons, ending before we realize they've begun. I have to consciously stop and look at my calendar, and tell myself that it's July 14 and I haven't been to the beach yet. Not once.

But then again, there is one thing that also reminds me we're in summer: the white flowers hanging on every other door, the invitation cards flooding the entrance table, the harmonious beeping of car convoys... the names changing from double to triple on Facebook (I like this trend women have of keeping their maiden names, so modern-chic), pictures of the big day flooding everyone's walls, the honeymoons in the Maldives or San Francisco.

So when did we get to that age again? Because I think I missed the memo. Just yesterday we were sixteen and we would beg our parents to let us out until 2am and we would sneak out in the middle of the night, have sleepovers, play truth or dare, get drunk and spend the rest of the night throwing up in the guest bathroom of a friend's chalet in Faraya. Now I log on to Facebook with my morning coffee in one hand and my jaw drops as everyday I discover that a friend who I played barbies with when I was 10 years old now has a baby. And bless her heart, she's the cutest thing in the world and I'm so happy for her, but again --when did we reach that age? I log in again this morning and I see another one who is pregnant. I go out for drinks with my friends, and all everyone talks about is that dress she bought for thingy's wedding and the shoes she bought for the other wedding, and there's a wedding on Friday and two on Saturday and the engagement party and the bachelorette and if I hear these words one more time I think I'm going to scream.

There's never been a truer moment for me to say time flies. The last three years have gone by so fast I haven't had the time to pause and catch my breath. Next thing I know I'll be the one adding a name to my name and parading pictures of my belly. Maybe. And suddenly that whole Peter Pan story has a whole new meaning.