One of the most pivotal moments in a relationship is the introduction to the family. If it goes poorly, the couple has an uphill battle ahead if they choose to continue the relationship. If it goes well, everyone gets to live happily ever after. If it goes really well, wedding plans can commence. But what happens if your family falls for your honeybun and you aren’t quite sure Mendelssohn's March is in your future? Or worse yet, you fall out of love and decide to end the relationship?
Over the years I’ve spent a lot of time assessing the importance of Valentine’s day and what it means for the single among us. My opinion, more often than not, rested somewhere between Valentine’s sucks hard! and I love Valentine’s day; it gives me an excuse to wear pink and have a fancy “we hate men” dinner with my friends. And now, I’ve found The One™, so it’s totally different. There are bluebirds that swirl around me every February 14th. I receive entire menageries of stuffed animals and gardens of roses. Everyone in the world knows how in love I am.
After spending some time with my grandmother discussing dating and such, I’ve come to the completely unscientific and most likely false conclusion that romantical preferences are a hereditary curse. I also did a Bible study this past summer that suggested there might be some truth to this theory. Though the study was more about bearing the emotional burdens of our mothers and their mothers before them, naturally some of this translates into how we approach our relationships. It suggested that even though we may not have some life-altering traumatic experiences in our lifetime, the damage inflicted on the women in our blood lines before us may spill over into our lives without our knowledge or permission.
With the holiday season comes all those warm fuzzy feelings that often lead to the more single of us to wish Santa would bring us someone with whom we can share a series of eggnog-soaked activities. I can’t lie (obviously since I’ve over-confessed much to you fine people for the past two years), I’ve had my “All I want for Christmas is you, whoever you may be, because I have only a very generic idea of you in my mind” moments. I get doubly nailed with single awareness events given the fact that my birthday is this month as well. Which means I’m just one year closer to throwing myself a wedding-themed birthday party. (Not really. That’s just frightening.)
After my brother’s wedding this weekend, I’m inclined to set aside the cynicism and bitter quips for one night and wax romantic. So often weddings are sprinkled with skeptical musings and fatal predictions of cynical naysayers, but this wasn’t the case at this particular wedding. Not a single person could help but express with unfaltering confidence that they truly believed this couple had found something lasting and sincere in each other. If and when I find my spouse I can only hope to have a relationship like theirs.
In the vein of settling and my apparently unrealistic standards I’ve taken a closer look at why I am the way I am and why I believe that there is someone out there who will live up to my expectations. The proverbial “they” say that girls marry men who are like their fathers and I have one of the best. It’s not even that I see him through rose-colored daughter glasses. Many people have told me that I can’t hold every guy I date up to standards set by my father because they will all fall short.
