Back when my sociologist friends were teaching at the local university, they would occasionally invite me to give a guest lecture on polyamory. I always devoted the last half hour or so to a Q & A session. Almost invariably, one of the students would ask me something like this:
If you knew you were poly/wanted to “play the field”/couldn't commit to just one person, why did you get married?
This question continues to puzzle me, because the answer seems so obvious.
It's kind of like asking, If you knew you wanted to travel/be a professional athlete/have a wildly successful career, why did you have children?
On one level, such a question makes sense. It's kind of hard to float down the Amazon with a toddler who seems intent on pitching headfirst out of the boat to get a closer look at the pretty piranhas; it's a real bitch to get up and train at 5 a.m. every morning when your twins aren't yet sleeping through the night; and it's almost impossible to climb the corporate ladder while your preschooler is pulling on your expensive suit jacket with jammy hands, whining, “Mommymommymommy! ”
However, there are a lot of travel junkies, professional athletes, and CEOs who choose to become parents. Most of them, if asked WHY they made this choice, would probably respond, “Because I wanted children.”
So, for anyone who wonders: I got married because I wanted to.
Why did I want to be married? For many of the same reasons anyone else wants to be married, I imagine: because I liked the idea of building a life together with someone whose company I enjoyed, because I wanted to have a family of my own, because I wanted to secure the long-term support of a dedicated partner. Oh, and the tax breaks are nice.
Why did I want to marry Parker? Again, I could list some reasons that others might also give: because I was in love with him, because I couldn't – or didn't want to – imagine my life without him, because it seemed like the logical “next step” in our relationship, because I thought we'd make good parents together, because I was pretty sure we'd get along on a daily basis. I can also list some reasons that are more specifically about Parker: because he was the most interesting person I'd ever met, because he was able to drag me out of the prison of my comfort zone...and because I knew he wasn't going to hold me to that “forsaking all others” clause.
People who ask me, “Why did you get married?” aren't really wondering about my reasons, though. What they are really saying is this: “Dammit, this isn't FAIR. You have to choose just ONE: freedom OR security; just playing around OR really working at a relationship.” They've had monogamy drilled into their heads: “Pick ONE: person A OR person B. Every choice entails a sacrifice. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”
Some polyamorous people choose not to marry. Those of us who are married, though, incite the ire of everyone who believes that the benefits of marriage are bought at a steep price.
Yes, we all have to make choices, and opening one door often means shutting others, at least temporarily. At the moment, for example, I am choosing to sit at my computer and type, and this means there are a whole host of other activities I'm foregoing – mopping the kitchen floor, painting my fingernails, reading Fanny Hill, getting a massage, earning money, making a cake to replace the one that got eaten earlier this evening (man, was it yummy!).
But in the grand scheme of things, there's plenty of cake – and pie, and peaches, and whipped cream too – to go around. And no, it won't make you fat.
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