Act One: The Call
1. The Ordinary World
Me. Girl. Mid-twenties. Eats vegetarian food. Watches How I Met Your Mother, often alone, often while eating rice pudding or strawberries. Goes to yoga. Goes to church. Has a normal job. Drives cautiously. Has never gotten a speeding ticket. Spends nights painting flowers and trees. Acrylic on canvas. Values: Comfort, Beauty, Trader Joe’s.
2. The Call to Adventure
Jack. Husband. Skinny jeans and a Banana Republic non-iron. A reckless driving ticket knocked down in traffic court. Possesses: A Stage Presence. Together, we watch How I Met Your Mother outside on an iPad with a thermos of gin and tonic. Does not value: Comfort Zones.
3. The Reluctant Hero
I’m not ready for a baby! I’ve just gotten my thyroid problem under control!
4. The Mentor
I’m not ready for a baby, I tell Dr. Stanfield. She nods. She points to the IUD on that little chart of hers. A triumphant 99.9% effective. It takes out the human error, says Dr. Stanfield. You can just forget about it.
5. Crossing the Threshold
At installation, the uterus seizes up in a single contraction, like one during childbirth. A quick irony, spending a few seconds doing exactly the thing you are trying to avoid. They did not tell me this until I was on the table. Before, only a vague warning to come with Tylenol.
When you think of marrying the love of your life, there are so many magical things that come to mind. You think about the life that you’ll build together, the children you may have, the endless romance you’ll cultivate, the places you’ll go, and the challenges you’ll overcome. Disney Films and romantic comedies glamorize marriage in ways that make us so eager to tie the knot that we often regret it. We’re given dreams and illusions of grandeur and love. We’re promised that marriage is about finding your other half. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll gain 20 pounds. And really, to some extent that’s true. Marriage is great. I’m happy with my choices.
But marriage, in so many ways, is boring AF.
So it wasn’t a gluten intolerance after all, you tell me. And now you have filled our kitchen with real bread, with pita chips, with French’s crispy onions. You say, Let’s get pizza, and you get the real kind, with the real crust, the kind that holds together when you pick it up. I am jealous of you and your newfound freedom, your ability to “go big” at bakeries. I am jealous of your cake. I am jealous of your biscuits. I am jealous of the crumbs delicately clinging to the surface of your chicken.
We used to be in this together.
Whaddup 3M Fam,
Jack here and today I’m gonna brag about how many wedding blogs/articles I’ve read in the past year. Not because I’m proud of it or because I’m somehow a marriage expert at this point (I’m not, somehow I feel like I know less now…). There are just a lot of things we need to talk about when it comes to the stuff we’re reading online.
First, I acknowledge that producing a marriage blog isn’t easy. So I’m not here to just take a huge dump on the rest of the marriage blogs out there because I think we’re better than them. We’re not. We’re the new kids in town and the size of our following is humble, but mighty. I’m just a little bit concerned about what I’m reading. Because I care.
I care about my marriage, which is why I read a handful of marriage-related articles every day. I care about your marriage, which is why I carefully select helpful, innovative, and progressive articles to share on our social media pages. But most importantly, I care about doing right by all married and future-married people out there. Which is why it’s time for me to say some unpopular things.
I married a nice medium guy. But when I stand next to him, I tend to slouch my hips, one up and one down, as to not appear freakish, like a giantess, like a side-show, like a man.
Once, in college, I got into an argument with a man at a swing dancing class. He told me there was no way I was only 5’10”. I said, “Yes, I am.” He said, “No, you’re not.” I pulled out my driver’s license and said, “Look!” He said, “You can still lie on your driver’s license. It’s not like they check.”
Another time in college, I danced with a man who was 6’7”. I felt what I imagine smaller women feel like every day. Normal? Comely? Petite? (Would Gloria Steinem think it’s a sin to want to feel petite? Would Judith Butler?) I did not love this man, though.
As a woman, it is better not to take up space. As a woman, it is good to be small. When I am with little men, this is my problem. When my husband says, “I wish I were taller,” I think, No. You are fine. I am the one out of the range that is considered normal.
Annie and Jack here with an exciting mini-blog about this week’s blog! #ablogaboutablog #SoMeta
JACK: This week, we want to talk about an exciting pivot we’re taking. As you already know, Annie and I have been publishing an original piece every week on Thursday 3pm EST. We’ve been focusing mostly on articles that highlight our life experience and examine marriage in a way that isn’t depicted in your standard marriage blog. As we always say, we’re trying to usher you into a new era of marriage conversations where we get really honest about the state of things and provide a space for the less traditional practices.
As we’ve been producing new content, we’ve discovered some things about ourselves and decided to make an exciting change. I’ll let Annie take it from here to explain more.
Annie & Jack
Love. Marriage. Teamwork. Art. Offsetting the patriarchal footprint. These are some of the things we're thinking about.