I Love You, Man: A Singletude Review

It's official! I have a crush! Since it arrived from Netflix, I've been in deep like with I Love You, Man. The bromance of the century is as spit-out-your-Sprite funny as the likes of Wedding Crashers and Knocked Up, but the themes it addresses through dialogue so achingly real it feels like a hammer to the funny bone elevate this flick several cuts above. So why am I still withholding affection? Because while the movie skewers matrimania, it still demonizes singles.

Meet Peter Klaven (Paul Rudd), a straight-laced, dependable, ambitious yet sensitive real estate agent in touch with his feminine side. Now meet Zooey Rice (Rashida Jones), sweet, attractive, easygoing co-owner of a retail boutique. The two live in a beautiful house in the suburbs of LA, and Peter has just proposed. They have it all, which usually signals the end of the movie. Not in this case.

See, Peter is missing something--friends. Oh, he has co-workers and acquaintances, even fencing buddies, but no one close enough to stand up for him at his wedding. After he overhears Zooey's BFFs critiquing his social skills, he has an epiphany: "I gotta get some f****** friends!" he vows. From that point on, he becomes a man on a mission to cleverly exploit every parallel to contemporary dating cliches. In the process, he endures misguided "set-ups" (one of which includes possibly the best projectile vomiting scene in cinematic history), discovers that men online lie about their age, and agonizes over how soon to call for that first "man date." The expected hilarity ensues, not just because Peter isn't actually romancing these guys but because it hits home that much of the same hope, anxiety, frustration, and excitement that we associate with dating applies to courting a new friend, as well.

Now enter Sydney Fife (Jason Segel), a womanizing, Cheeto-munching, bar-brawling, air guitar-riffing man's man. Here the movie takes a detour to Fight Club Lite as Sydney bonds with Peter, teaching him to speak Guy (a language he flubs often and spectacularly), obey the rules of the brotherhood, and grow a pair. It's all good, and Peter is feeling the brotherly love until his fiancee fears that their relationship is threatening to become a menage a trois.

Because this is, after all, a Hollywood comedy, alter egos Peter and Sydney must each know something the other needs to learn in order to grow and change. Peter, obviously, needs friends. Director John Hamburg has decided that Sydney needs a girlfriend. Or maybe not a girlfriend yet--mercifully, the set-up that Peter and Zooey force on him doesn't work out--but the maturity and interpersonal skills necessary to land one. Therein lies the reason for my love-hate relationship with I Love You, Man.

What the movie does right is present a positive model for a balanced relationship that is not overly couplecentric. Peter and Zooey love each other and enjoy spending time together, but, by the end, they also have fulfilling lives apart with their own friends and career interests. The message that marital partners can't be each other's "everything," that they need platonic friends outside the relationship, is so enlightened and exceptional in the entertainment world that singles with singletude can't help but fall hard for this film.

On the other hand, as much fun and heart as Sydney brings to this story, he's still a caricature of the aging bachelor who refuses to grow up while all his friends are settling down. In one troubling scene, he phones everyone he knows to make weekend plans but is rejected by one after the other. Turns out his friends have wives and children who top their priority lists. Ok, Mr. Hamburg, we get it. When push comes to shove, family trumps friends. Fine. But then you pull out the heavyweights, the three Bs, and leave Sydney looking bummed, bored, and bereft. This is a guy who supposedly has a successful investment business, a collection of high-end guitars he rocks out on, a dog he's devoted to, and friends he hangs with a few times a week. Yet the one day everyone is busy, he's presented as a pathetic no-life who can't find a way to amuse himself on his own. Then there's Zooey's token single friend, who is, of course, a whiny, desperate Plain Jane (the cool, sexy one is married) and a mini-lesson toward the end about respecting the privacy of interactions within the sanctum of the relationship. These elements combine to proclaim a message that matrimaniacs are losers, but singles are losers, too, that to strike a successful balance, one should find a happy, healthy relationship or at least accept that relationships make the world go round. I'm down with the first half of that thesis but not the second.

In fantasyland, Sydney teaches Peter what he needs to learn without ever succumbing to the vices of stereotypical bachelorhood. But then there wouldn't be a conflict, and as all wannabe screenwriters know, a script without conflict is like a platinum wedding without a bridezilla. Or something. Anyway, it doesn't sell. Though I can't commit my whole heart to I Love You, Man, as the only movie in recent memory to call out matrimaniacs and lampoon intensive coupling, it still has me pretty infatuated.




How important do you think it is for a couple to maintain separate friendships outside their relationship? What can couples do to balance time together and time apart? How do you think bachelors are usually portrayed in Hollywood? Is the Hollywood version of the bachelor at all representative of the single men you know? If you've seen I Love You, Man, what are your thoughts on the movie? Do you think it has a positive or a negative message about singles in general and single men in particular? What does it say to you about matrimania/intensive coupling/enmeshed or codependent relationships? By the end of the movie, do you think Peter and Zooey provide a healthy model for couples or not? Can you recommend any other movies that tackle matrimania?


Fun Link of the Day


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have an unpublished rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a "Singletude Q&A" or your rant or rave in a "Singletude Sound-off"! Singletude makes every effort to republish submissions in their original form but reserves the right to edit your submission for length and clarity.

No Sex for Singles

This week, Singlutionary has a brilliant post entitled "Sexless Singlutionary Experiment." Casual sex, including one-night stands, friends with benefits (FWBs), and f*** buddies (aka, "just benefits, hold the friendship please"), has been a hot topic in the singles blogosphere in recent months. Maybe it's the steamy weather with its requisite bikini beach days and titillating romcom movies, or maybe it's just the greater visibility of singles issues in general. Whatever it is, the Web is abuzz with opinions about how sex fits into the single life.

All long-term singles with a sex drive must confront this dilemma. Often, it remains the only stumbling block in an otherwise satisfied single's life. Go to any web site, blog, or message board for singles, and you'll see the ubiquitous complaint: "I love being single--the freedom, the flexibility, the self-determination--but I hate not getting any!" Sooner or later, every single has to make a decision about how he or she will channel sexual energy and whether that outlet will involve another person.

Without spoiling the details of the Singlutionary's gem of a post, which you should have a look at before you read any further, she decided to give intentional celibacy a try. Other than discussing the potential fallout of FWB relationships and hook ups in "Friends With Benefits and the Lowdown on Hook Ups, Part I" and "Part II," Singletude has been silent on this issue. That's because it's so personal and wrapped up in centuries of moral, psychological, and religious layers that can be hard to separate from it. However, I'm highlighting the Singlutionary's blog because she perfectly articulated my thoughts about the conundrum that is sex for the single person and chose an undeniably smart, safe, and sensitive solution for this time in her life.

Please keep in mind that I'm not saying any other choice is dumb, dangerous, and insensitive. But, as a single, whenever you add another person to the mix in your sex life, you have an unknown element that could become explosive at any time, so you have to be vigilant. When sex is an activity just between you and yourself, it's totally risk-free. STDs, jealousy, ruined friendship? Out of the question.

Again, I don't want to make a blanket statement implying that all casual sexual relationships go downhill or do damage, physical or emotional. But many of them do. That may not be politically correct, and it may not be popular, but sometimes the truth is neither. I have to call it as I see it, and time and again, I see these relationships beginning with two happy people and ending with at least one of them sad, regretful, or disillusioned. Casual affection turns into unrequited love, "friends" with benefits fail to deliver on the friendship, opportunities to pursue more meaningful relationships are missed. If even one person gets hurt, how can the relationship be considered "successful"? How can a few minutes of pleasure be worth this risk?

As singles, we're so used to living for ourselves that sometimes we forget sex involves someone else. It's an interpersonal experience, whether or not we want it to be. You can ignore the other person's feelings, pretend they're nothing more than a body. Hell, you can even ignore your own feelings and pretend you're nothing more than your body. But our minds and our hearts are an inseparable part of who we are, and we carry them into every interpersonal exchange. Of course that doesn't mean the feelings we bring to a sexual encounter will be love or other warm-fuzzy emotions. There will be feelings, though, of one sort or another, quite possibly intense feelings because sex is a physically intense experience, associated with a powerful physiobiological response as well as with powerful episodes in our personal histories and sometimes powerful beliefs and values. So when we imagine that this kind of interpersonal experience can be casual or only about the body or only about ourselves (as opposed to our partners) just because we're single, we don't prepare ourselves for how emotionally messy it can be.

No one wants to hear that these days, and I'm sure I'll get flak about voicing it. Everyone wants to believe that we singles can have our single serving and eat it, too. But I think this emanates from the flawed belief that life can be perfect, that we can search for and find a lifestyle that is all pros and no cons. That's the same trap that matrimaniacal people tumble into when they fantasize about living "happily ever after." They dream that marriage will give their lives an instant makeover, a quick fix after which there will be no conflict, no hardship, no sacrifice, just smooth sailing into the sunset. Sometimes, singles seem to believe that singlehood can have a similar transformative effect, that if we don't couple, we won't have any conflict, hardship, or sacrifice. That's not true. There is no perfect way to live. Both states, single and coupled, have advantages and disadvantages unique to each. Maybe living without partnered sex is just one of those disadvantages of singleness.

And is it really that much of a disadvantage anyway? Why is it that so many of us think we can't live without partnered sex? Is that really because it's so indispensable or because the dictum that we can't live without it has become as unquestioned as the tradition of marriage? One element of the Singlutionary's post that fascinated me was how she acknowledged her envy of all those nameless, faceless people out there getting it on. As she said, "I'm going to quit thinking that everyone out there doing-the-nasty is happier and healthier and having more fun than me."

For a long time, I felt the same way as Singlutionary. When I had to endure a dry spell without sex, I felt like I was suffering and envied couples who, I presumed, were getting laid on the regular. If I was abstinent for long enough, I started feeling insecure about myself, like I was a "loser" because I wasn't having The Sex. Then, as I was in the process of choosing singleness for myself, I also started reexamining my attitude toward sex.

What I realized was shocking. All my life, American culture had been sending me the message that sex was amazing, stupendous, the best experience that humans could aspire to. When I finally started having sex, I expected it to live up to the hype. I was so sure it would that I kept telling myself and other people how much I liked sex. But the fact was...it wasn't all that. Sex was a hit-or-miss experience. Sometimes, with a partner who knew me well, understood what I liked, and was willing to do what I liked...and at certain times of the month...and when I was into it and not tired, uncomfortable, tense, irritated, etc....it was very pleasurable. Other times, it was just blah or downright painful. If I was honest with myself, I had to admit that, more often than not, the sex that really blew my mind was battery operated.

The fact that I have to "admit" that, that it's embarrassing, tells me a lot about how our society pushes intercourse. Why? I don't know for sure, but I'm willing to bet it's tied to the push for coupling and, ultimately, marriage. After all, isn't that one of the supposed benefits of marriage that matrimaniacs advertize all the time? If we get married, we can have better, more consistent sex, or so we're told. We need to reproduce to keep society functioning, so society tells us to reproduce. Even though we can experience as much physical pleasure on our own as with a partner, partnered sex is portrayed as the ultimate experience, like an ice cream sundae compared to a scoop of vanilla. If we're not constantly having sex, thinking about it, or trying to get it, we're pitied, derided, even diagnosed! To be fair, at least part of this is probably a backlash against the repression of previous generations, and it's totally normal to like sex, think about it, and want it. The problem arises when it's considered abnormal to not be that interested in sex.

Once I had separated out the physical aspect of sex, I was able to identify what it was that I really craved--acceptance. Social programming had done it's job, and I'd learned that as a normal, healthy woman, I should want sex and lots of it. So, naturally, I wanted sex just like I'd wanted a Champion sweatshirt and Z. Cavaricci jeans in junior high--so I could have what everyone else had and fit in. There was something competitive about it, too. From women's magazines to talk shows, I started noticing how sex had been commodified. It was like a resource you could accumulate for bragging rights: "I've had more sex than you and for longer and in more positions, too! Neener neener neener!" It seemed like no matter how good your sex life was (with yourself or otherwise), there was always someone out there taunting you with how much better it could be. Under the circumstances, no wonder I'd felt left out! I'd internalized the notion that "winners" have heaps of wild, crazy, earth-shaking sex.

Now that I understood the cultural messages I'd absorbed, I could focus on what really did distinguish partnered sex from single sex. First, there was the beautiful human body, which I had always admired and loved to touch. But was that in itself worth tolerating the trappings of a relationship or undertaking the risks of casual sex? I knew that, for me, the answer was no. Second, there was the personal connection, the closeness, and that's something I do miss about relationships. But it's not something I can get from a casual relationship, and it's not enough to justify a serious, committed relationship.

Perhaps you'll think about it and decide that sex does justify either pursuing a monogamous relationship or accepting the risks inherent in something casual. Just like the decision to get married, though, it should only be made when you can separate what you really want from what mainstream America has taught you to want. You may be surprised to discover how little your happiness really depends on getting off with someone else.


Okay, bring it on! What do you think about the cultural messages we receive about sex? Can you identify some beliefs about sex that you've internalized from society? Why do you think U.S. culture pushes partnered sex so much? Have you had a casual relationship primarily or just for sex? If so, what were the pros and cons as you experienced them? Were the pros worth the cons?


Fun Link of the Day


Don't forget to enter the Singletude giveaway contest for your chance to win over $150 in prizes from SingleEdition.com!


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a "Singletude Q&A" or your rant or rave in a "Singletude Sound-off"!

Poll Results: Are You Single by Choice or by Circumstance?

Thanks to all those who participated in the second Singletude poll! Response more than doubled since the last poll, and with 50 of you chiming in, we now have what would be considered in the research community a small but decent sample group. :) Of course, this was hardly a scientific study. Nevertheless, the results give us a peek into the minds of singles who would seek out a blog that's supportive of the single life and hints at how the attraction of the single state stacks up against the allure of relationships.



Poll: "Are you single by choice or by circumstance?"


I am single by choice. I would rather be single than in a relationship even if I could find a suitable partner.
16% (8)

I am single by circumstance. If I could find a suitable partner, I would rather be in a relationship than single.
50% (25)

I have no preference. I equally enjoy being single and being in a relationship.
20% (10)

I prefer not to define myself by any of the above.
14% (7)



At the end of the day, it seems that the overwhelming majority of singles (50%) would prefer to come home to significant others as long as those "others" are right for them. At least, that's what it looks like at first glance. However, if you combine the singles by choice with those who are equally happy single or coupled, you get a substantial minority (36%) who are just fine without a partner keeping the home lights burning, thank you very much. Not to be misleading, though, you could just as easily interpret this statistic from the opposing viewpoint and argue that 86% of singles surveyed enjoy relationships, while only 16% voice a strong preference for a spouse-free life. The remaining 14% fall into an undefinable category, and I'd be interested in hearing whether they just don't care for the terms "choice" and "circumstance" or have more complex definitions than this basic poll could capture.

Thanks again to everyone who voted, and I hope the results proved educational in a totally unscientific, non-academic way. ;)


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

Why I Am Single by Choice

I am single by choice. I'm still getting used to saying that after years of considering myself single by circumstance. In "Single by Choice or by Circumstance?" I promised that I would explain the change of heart, and I will. But first, I want to address your response to the last post, which spawned a revealing dialogue about how we define "single by choice," "single by circumstance," and the variant "single by chance" suggested by several readers.

When Singletude has used the term "single by choice," the intention has been to describe singles who prefer to be single rather than coupled. Conversely, the phrase "single by circumstance" has been used to denote singles who would prefer to be coupled given suitable partners. However, some of your comments rightly alerted me to shades of "choice" that aren't acknowledged by such black and white classifications. Some readers proudly claimed "single by chance" as a more accurate and empowering self-descriptor, associating it with a conscious refusal to settle or give in to matrimania while keeping an open mind toward future prospects. Others pointed out that some people don't think in terms of preference, just accepting and relishing whatever life brings, whether single, married, or something undefinable. Although Singletude will continue to reference "choice" and "circumstance" for the sake of simplicity, I greatly appreciate all the nuanced perspectives that everyone has contributed to our understanding of how singles perceive themselves.

Today I am unabashedly a single by choice in the sense that if the perfect boyfriend fell in my lap, I couldn't dump his bum on the floor fast enough. That is not to say that I will never be in a relationship again. I stand behind healthy relationships as sources of love, support, companionship, and inspiration in the lives of many and encourage anyone who wants a relationship to pursue it. However, I'm now realizing that just because a romantic relationship can be a positive force in one's life doesn't mean that everyone should have one. I'm one of those people who shouldn't, at least not right now and maybe not ever.

STOP.

Was your first reaction to that last sentence a sympathetic "awwww"? Did you instinctively think, "Oh, she'll change her mind"?

If not, congratulations! Singlism can't fool you, and matrimania has no hold over you! If, however, you were just caught in the act, don't feel too bad because your reaction just proved my next point--that lots of people, even those who think it's possible to be single and happy, can't fathom that anyone would be happier single than paired. But right now, that is exactly the case for me.

Like many singles, I didn't imagine this life for myself when I was growing up. At around 14 years old, a friend and I swore that we wouldn't marry and have kids before age 25 so that we'd have time to get educated, build our careers, and see the world. From the time I was a teenager, it wasn't a question of if, but when. Then 25 rolled around...and disappeared in my rear-view mirror...and I was no closer to marriage than I'd been at 14. Somewhere along the way, I noticed that I didn't mind the interludes of singleness between relationships, but I still assumed I'd rather be married if the right man showed up.

As the years passed without a ring on my finger, it occurred to me that I couldn't keep waiting for someone else to give me a fulfilling life. I was going to have to find fulfillment for myself. While questioning how to do that, I began to deconstruct my concept of a good relationship and what it could provide me that was worth continued pursuit. However, it wasn't until I was mentally sweeping up the fragments of my most recent relationship that the answer winked back at me, bold and undeniable: not a whole heck of a lot.

For some time, the three major draws of relationships--romance, companionship, and physical affection--have been losing their charm for me. As far as romance is concerned, it's not that I don't still thrill to a poem written for me or a candlelit picnic awaiting me at the lake. But now my heart merely flutters instead of thumping right out of my chest like a car stereo at full volume. By now, I know that sweet nothings in my ear mean just that--nothing--and I've heard most of them before. To me, this isn't some tragic loss of innocence but a mature awareness that flowery words and extravagant gestures straight out of an 18th-century court don't necessarily foretell long-term compatibility or genuine commitment. It's also a kind of experiential satiation, a feeling that Ive been there and done that, enjoyed it, and no longer have a craving to be serenaded by moonlight or waltzed around under the stars. Sure, romance is exciting, but if it never swept me off my feet again, I wouldn't feel like I had missed out or been deprived of something.

Companionship, too, is somewhat overrated for me. A dyed-in-the-wool introvert, I used to yearn for that one person who would understand me better than I understood myself, my best friend and soul mate with whom I could withdraw into a little cocoon world. What I've learned in the intervening years is that no one can be the whole world to someone else. Even someone who has an uncanny connection with you will, at times, misconstrue, disagree, differentiate. Despite the poetic tradition of becoming one in matrimony, you will continue to be two separate people, and where there are separate thoughts, beliefs, and desires, there will also sooner or later be conflict. That's why it's imperative that we don't invest our entire emotional well-being in one person. We need to have other family members and friends to open our hearts to, have fun with, learn from, rely on. When lengthy spells of singleness drove me to seek out and strengthen that web of relationships, I found that they gave me the emotional and mental sustenance I longed for. At the same time, I got accustomed to making coffee runs, strolling in the park, and poking around museums on my own. To my surprise, I didn't have to have someone alongside me to delight in these activities. A book, earbuds, or my own thoughts were companionship enough.

And then there's physical affection, the cornerstone, we're led to believe, of relationships. Such a double-edged sword for me, a source of both pleasure and pain. One of the most common complaints I hear from singles is that they miss the high of sex, the closeness of sleeping in another's arms, the relief of a foot rub or neck massage after a long day, the simple comfort of a hug to remind them that they're loved, appreciated, wanted. But for all the joys of physical intimacy, there are also annoyances, frustrations, dissatisfactions. Meditating on the dark side of sex, I think of all the times I have felt pressured to offer the use of my body to someone, not because I wanted to but because I didn't want him to reject me or feel rejected. I think of all the covers pulled off in the night, the muscle cramps from sleeping in positions contorted around someone else, the snoring slicing through my peaceful dreams. I think of the hours I'm obliged to spend on shaving and personal care, the sexy lingerie I'm supposed to keep my drawers well-stocked with, the risks of pregnancy and disease and the side effects of birth control. I think of these things and remember that physical love exacts a price of its own.

Of course there are other perks that relationships offer. Convenience, support, security, social standing, the chance for children. Some people marry for these reasons alone. But I believe that a man should be more than just a woman's handyman, paycheck, or sperm donor. A woman should be more than just a man's housekeeper, arm candy, or incubator. I believe that two people should be together primarily because they love to be in each other's presence. Those other bonuses like the guaranteed Saturday night date, the shared rent, or the extra pair of hands in the kitchen are not good enough reasons by themselves to dedicate one's life to someone else. To be with someone for just those reasons is tantamount to using that person.

So I can't, in good conscience, enter a relationship for the wrong reasons, nor do I really want one for the right reasons. The benefits of relationships simply don't outweigh the drawbacks for me. They are just not enough. And drawbacks there are in spades.

I know somewhere out there someone is reading this and thinking, "She just hasn't found the right person yet." I used to believe that, too, so that's probably why I only reached this conclusion, finally, after my last relationship ended. It was then I discovered that no matter how deep the connection or intense the passion, no matter how stimulating the conversation or enriching the shared experience, no matter how compatible the interests or complementary the personalities, relationships are still work. They demand compromise and sacrifice and adjustment and accountability. And all that work just isn't worth it to me. The pain of argument is not overcome by the satisfaction of making up. The loss of self-direction is not justified by the gain in synergy. The reduction in personal time is not compensated for by the increase in companionship. The irritation of quirks and foibles is not offset by the ease and comfort of familiarity. Even when a man is everything I could want, the sweetness of a relationship is not enough to counter the sour.

Before you roll your eyes and go back to sucking face with that hottie you met at the bar, please remember that I'm just explaining my own rationale. I don't expect it to apply to everyone or even to most people. I'm well aware that I'm a rather unusual person in somewhat irregular circumstances, which affects my attitude toward relationships. For instance, if I wasn't self-employed and trying to expand my own business, my personal time might not be so important to me. If I didn't live a fairly bohemian lifestyle, self-determination might not be such a sticking point. In fact, maybe one day my life will be different enough that I'll change my mind. After all, if it's changed once, I'd be foolish to think it couldn't change again.

Nevertheless, this is the way I feel right now, in my present situation, about this particular lifestyle decision, and this is why. Although I respect and blog about other lifestyles, this is the perspective that I write from. I am single by choice. I'm neither proud nor ashamed of it, neither thankful nor resentful, neither champion nor protester. It's just the right choice for me.


If you haven't already answered this question, do you consider yourself single by choice, single by circumstance, or single for other reasons? If you are single by choice, why? If you are not single by choice, why? Do you think it's better to be one way or the other? Why or why not?


Fun Link of the Day


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

Bad Marriages Break Men's Hearts, Too

As a postscript to "Bad Marriages Break (Women's) Hearts," I'd like to share an article that I found just a day or two after I last blogged. "Bad Marriages Harder on Women's Health" by Kathleen Doheny appeared in the online edition of U.S. News & World Report as a response to the aforementioned research linking stressful marriage to an increased risk of metabolic syndrome in women. However, this version of the report included some info that the others conveniently omitted.

Specifically, the U.S. News article includes commentary from Dr. Debra Umberson of the University of Texas at Austin. Dr. Umberson, who is also an expert on the health effects of marital stress, reveals that her research paints a different picture--one with a much darker palette for men: "'Basically, we find that marital strain undermines the health of men and women,' she says, adding that perhaps the men in [Nancy] Henry's study had their health influenced in a different way." (ital added)

According to her CV, Umberson has been publishing her work on the interaction between gender and marital conflict for several years now, yet I can't recall major media players jumping all over it in the way they did the recent University of Utah study. (Correct me if I'm wrong, please. Some of you may remember news stories that I'm forgetting.) Could it be that the American media is not as interested in publicizing how unhappy relationships affect men's health? If not, why not?

My initial thought was that with so many men defecting from traditional marriage bonds, conservative-slanted publications might be squelching any research that would further dissuade them from tying the knot. But then it occurred to me that we also live in a society that clings to certain preconceptions about gender roles which make it less acceptable for men to be emotionally invested in their relationships or to exhibit depression and other outward signs of distress over relationship conflict. Women's magazines remind us that relationships aren't central to a man's identity, that instead of moping by the phone and overanalyzing with friends, a guy lets his troubles roll off his back along with big drops of sweat at the gym. In effect, American women are taught that relationship failure will leave them on the verge of collapse, while men are taught that their hearts should take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. So the suppression of research proving that men aren't as invulnerable as we'd like to think fits the dominant cultural message about gender roles.

Whatever the reason that Umberson's findings were overlooked, Singletude is setting the record straight for readers here: Marital problems depress both women and men and may increase the likelihood that both sexes will develop health issues. Henry's research is not and surely will not be the final word.

Whew! Just had to get that off my chest. Now back to your regularly scheduled blogging!


Do you think more public attention is paid to research that reinforces gender stereotypes as opposed to research that disproves them? Can you think of any other reasons that Henry's study was so well publicized while Umberson's contradictory results were not? What do you think might explain the discrepancy between their conclusions? Have you noticed news sources applying selective reporting to singles issues as well?


Fun Link of the Day


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

Bad Marriages Break (Women's) Hearts

No, that title is not a juicy little morsel of schadenfreude. I'm not the kind of single who's always itching to sink my teeth into the misery of some poor unhappily married couple. Singletude wants single and married people alike to be happy. However, acquiring a marriage license doesn't guarantee happiness any more than singleness guarantees multiple cat ownership, which is why research warning of the pitfalls of the marriage made in hell is so desperately needed.

The research in question hails from the University of Utah. Ordinarily, I would pick one news report from a major media outlet and respond to it, but rather than reprinting a standard press release, most web sites chose to conduct their own interviews, so no single article captured the full picture, a fact I found interesting in itself. In summary, the study revealed a link between stressful marriages and metabolic syndrome in women.1-5 Metabolic syndrome is characterized by high blood pressure, blood sugar, and triglycerides; low HDL, the form of cholesterol considered "good"; and obesity in the abdominal region. All these symptoms put one at increased risk of heart attack1-5, stroke1,3,4, and diabetes1-5. The study also showed a correlation between marital strife and depression in both sexes1-5, and we know that depression can lead to health problems. However, oddly enough, unhappily married men were not more likely than their contented counterparts to develop metabolic syndrome.1-5

The study followed 276 couples.1-5 Sources couldn't seem to agree on whether couples had been married for 201,3 or 272,4,5 years on average or on the participants' age range, cited alternately as 40-701 or 32-762,5. The couples filled out questionnaires about marital conflict and depression levels and were then examined at the university's health clinic. Encouragingly for the married set, only 27% of women and 22% of men reported unhappy marriages.2,5 (I say "only" because I found this figure to be low, though I'm sure any bad marriage is one bad marriage too many for the people involved.)

The gender difference in incidence of metabolic syndrome was hypothesized to be due to the more central role that relationships play in women's heads--err, lives.2 One of the study's authors, Ph.D. candidate Nancy Henry, said, "Women seem to nurture relationships more than men do and attach significance to the emotions within relationships more than men do. ...Men...don't take as much stock in relationships with respect to their self-image, their self-concept, and those kinds of things."2 The symptoms of metabolic syndrome were probably caused by the flood of stress hormones that accompany relationship conflict.1,2,5 One commentator, Christine Northam, a couples therapist, also attributed the results to "the fact that women's hormonal profile[s are] more complex than men's." She then claimed that "women...tend to worry more about their health than men [do]," presumably increasing stress.4

Only one report, based on the university's press release, mentioned that previous divorce was also a risk factor and skimmed over this bit of trivia as quickly as possible.1,3 I emphasize it here because it was in line with previous research pointing to relationship loss as the major predictor of unhappiness, not singleness.

All the articles suggested modifications to diet and exercise routines to improve cardiovascular health1-5, and two promoted counseling2,5, but all of them were careful to clarify that they weren't recommending that women ditch their husbands en masse.1-5 Instead, Dr. Tim Smith of the U. of UT hoped that partners would focus on "the quality of [their] emotional and family lives." His goals for troubled couples included "getting along better and enjoying each other more, improving [their] mood."1

While Singletude is thankful for any study that shatters the myth of the marriage panacea, it would be even better if the researchers had included single men and women as a basis for comparison. At what rate do singles develop metabolic syndrome? What are the levels of depression among singles? How do never-married singles differ on these measures from divorced or widowed singles?

Furthermore, I'm a little troubled at the attitudes toward divorce that cropped up in these articles. On one hand, much of the media preferred to ignore the finding that divorce was a significant contributor to coronary disease. As noted earlier, the loss of a relationship can have deleterious effects on both physical and psychological health. On this matter, singles advocates and the pro-marriage crowd are aligned--we both want to publicize the profound impact of divorce. Curiously, the media didn't take advantage of that opportunity here.

They did, however, make it plain that the researchers discouraged divorce. Their prescription was "improving intimate relationships,"1 as well as committing to healthier eating and exercise habits. There was no discussion of how participants could magically "improve their relationships" after 20 years or more of presumably trying to do just that. Perhaps the researchers have been concocting an oxytocin nasal spray currently awaiting FDA approval. This study would make great promotional literature!

Far be it from me to portray divorce as a desirable solution to marital discord, but I also recognize that sometimes it's necessary. The divorced may be, on average, less happy and healthy than singles or the happily married, but how do they stack up against the unhappily married? Do these researchers expect us to believe that the unhappily married really have it better off? If you're married to a chronic cheater, an abuser (physical or emotional), a criminal, an addict, or even someone who just makes you miserable every day, day after day...sometimes the initial pain of separation may be worth the years of peace and stability that follow. And some singles-again do--gasp--get a second chance at love!

Again, I don't mean to push divorce as an acceptable escape hatch from problems that are better addressed by working on your own faults and foibles, but it bothers me that the researchers refuse to acknowledge that sometimes it is a sad but unavoidable outcome. I wish I'd seen a quote that sounded more like this: "The results of this study shouldn't be seen as justification to walk out on your spouse, and we hope that your first line of defense against these symptoms will be to get counseling and tackle interpersonal problems that might be defeating your relationship. But sometimes, unfortunately, a relationship may be so emotionally unhealthy and unsalvageable that it is in your best interest, physically and psychologically, to end it." What's wrong with that (other than that it doesn't fit into the agenda of a matrimaniacal society)?

Most of all, I'm concerned about what this study says about gender relations and the casual attitude with which Henry dismissed the health dangers to women as part and parcel of the natural female preoccupation with relationships. There are two disturbing assumptions here. The first is that women should derive so much of their psychological wellbeing from marriage, and the second is that men should not. Though the researchers gave lip service to reducing relational conflict, I get the sense that they are tolerant of normative expectations that a woman should invest more in a relationship than a man. I ask you, dear readers, to consider whether that very attitude may even be causing some of the marital problems that these couples face. I also find it interesting that there were no differences between husbands and wives on measures of depression. In opposition to Henry's conclusion, this implies to me that both sexes are equally stressed by interpersonal conflict and that women's bodies simply have a harder time recuperating from it. This would be a physiobiological difference, not a difference in relationship investment.

In general, though, I'm encouraged by this study. It honestly describes the health consequences of strained marital relations and doesn't try to obfuscate the data to further a conservative ideology that marriage cures all ills. That's a step in the right direction. Now if only these researchers can turn their baby step into a giant leap...


What do you think about this study? Why do you think women in troubled marriages had a higher incidence of metabolic syndrome than their male partners did? What do you think about the researchers' conclusions regarding why unhappily married women are at greater health risk than their husbands? Do you agree with the researchers about what should be done to minimize that risk? Do you believe that a bad marriage is better or worse than a divorce?


Sources

1. University of Utah
2. CNN.com
3. MSNBC
4. BBC News
5. Health.com


Fun Link of the Day


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

When Relationship Compromise Is Self-compromise

Relationships demand compromise. We hear it again and again from well-meaning friends, relatives, and mental health counselors. At the same time, a long list of teachers, mentors, and great philosophers remind us to be true to ourselves, to follow our hearts. When I was growing up, one of my favorite quotes was:

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. --Henry David Thoreau

If there's a message of compromise in there somewhere, it's using a pretty good cloaking device!

If you do have hopes of one day sharing your life with a significant other, a certain amount of compromise will be inevitable to keep the peace. But when does it become self-compromise to the point that you are now marching to someone else's drummer?

I pondered over whether or not to publish this post for a good week since the question arises from a matter in my personal life, and I've made it a point that Singletude is not a personal blog. And yet, I think this question is so universally applicable that it would be a lost opportunity not to address it here. So bear with me while I invite you to step into my world for a moment.

Recently, I ended a relationship with a man I'll call Andrew. (Yes, a relationship. Didn't think I had those, huh? ;)) He was a beautiful person in many ways, so it pained me deeply when things didn't work out between us. But the problem was that he and I had numerous lifestyle and belief differences which would have demanded a great deal of compromise had we decided to build our lives together. As I began to realize how vast our differences were, I found myself sinking into depression due to both the impending loss of someone I cared for so much and the self-doubt and -criticism stirred by our disagreements.

Since there were lots of things that Andrew and I loved about each other, he hoped we could compromise, reminding me that that's what people do in relationships. But it hurt to know that there were so many aspects of myself that he wanted me to change. (To be fair, it probably hurt him that some of his life choices, values, and habits were hard for me to accept, as well.) I started questioning everything from my career path to my philosophy of child rearing to my artistic sensibilities, wondering if he was right that these were areas in which I needed to compromise in the interest of reaching a middle ground with someone who had different ideas. Andrew assured me that a willingness to compromise was a mark of maturity and dedication to a relationship, and I knew that, to an extent, he was right.

To an extent. Those were the operative words. My relationship with Andrew highlighted a question I'd been puzzling over for awhile on my own: When is compromise an appropriate sacrifice for the betterment of a relationship, and when is it too costly a self-sacrifice?

As time passed and I tried on some of those compromises for size, I felt worse and worse about what I was compromising. Although I thought the world of Andrew, I was less and less excited about us as the sacrifices I would have to make mounted and I felt increasingly less accepted for who I was. It occurred to me that my singletude was slipping away, and I began to feel like a hypocrite. (For those not in the know, singletude isn't the attitude that it's necessarily better to be single than coupled but that it's definitely better to be single than in a relationship in which you can't be a happy, healthy individual.)

To compound my confusion, I wondered if I was just unhappy because I had unrealistic ideas about relationships. Perhaps all long-term relationships would require this kind of compromise, in which case the problem was me and my own self-centeredness. After all, the compromises Andrew was asking of me didn't seem unreasonable in his eyes, just as the compromises I was asking of him didn't seem unreasonable in mine. Yet, in the end, neither of us was willing to change.

Some observers may see one or both of us as selfish, stubborn, or intolerant. Others may wave the banner of independence and laud us for following our own paths and refusing to change for anyone else. I suspect that for most relationships to succeed, a certain amount of compromise is a necessary ingredient. But there's a fine, almost invisible line between what you should and shouldn't compromise, and equally blurry is the degree to which you should compromise on it.

Let me clearly state that I don't think love should be measured by that line. I know there are people who believe that love should conquer all and that if you don't practically rip your heart out in sacrifice, you must not have valued the relationship enough. I say that if you rip your heart out in sacrifice, you have nothing left to love with. Selflessness is admirable but not when you give up so much of yourself that you become an empty shell. I don't believe that kind of self-compromise is indicative of love any more than any other act of self-hatred. So I think it's unfair and inaccurate to surmise that Andrew and I (or any other couple in a similar situation) could've made it work if only we'd loved each other more.

For most people, though, I think it can be difficult, as it was for me, to discern when you're exercising your heart, making it work a little harder for someone else, from when you're on the verge of sacrificing it. By no means have I come up with a foolproof method of distinguishing between the two conditions, but I think my recent experience did teach me a few rules of thumb about when to compromise and when to stand your ground. Here are some questions you should ask yourself before you compromise for your partner (and please be aware that these can apply to any relationship, not just a romantic one):



1. Will this compromise affect my day-to-day happiness?

Many compromises involve relatively minor changes to your daily routine that have little impact on your overall life satisfaction. For instance, let's say your alarm is set to a death metal station, but your mate doesn't like to be blasted out of a sound sleep every morning. He or she prefers to wake up to the gentle strains of Beethoven, which, while not your ideal, don't make you wish someone would knock you back out when you wake. Setting the alarm to a classical station is, therefore, a reasonable compromise. Yeah, you'll miss your Slayer, but it won't, er, kill you.

Other compromises concern situations or events that occur so rarely that they have little significance for your general happiness. For example, your families may live far apart, forcing you to compromise on where you spend the holidays. However, this is a conflict you only face once a year, so it doesn't even register as a blip on your radar of relationship satisfaction the rest of the time.

On the other hand, some compromises threaten to dig deep, permanent trenches in your happiness. Let's say a woman deeply desires a large family and marries a man who doesn't really want kids. They compromise and have one baby. The painful result is that every day the woman longs to have more children while the man resents the work he has to invest in just one. Maybe another couple can't agree on where to live. The man grew up on a ranch in Wyoming, loves it there, and can't imagine living anywhere else. The woman craves a fast-paced city lifestyle and favors Boston, New York, or Washington, DC. They compromise by settling in a small city in the Midwest, but the man always misses the big open skies of Wyoming, and the woman chafes for a bigger, busier metropolis. These are examples of compromises that impinge on day-to-day happiness. And the unhappier you are, the more stressful it will be to your relationship.


2. Will this compromise change who I am?

Some well-intentioned people may advise you not to compromise on certain values that they consider integral to who you are, such as religious practices or the pursuit of various career goals or hobbies. But really only you can determine how important something is to your sense of self. Someone might be fine with promising to raise his children Catholic so that he can marry a Catholic wife, whereas someone else might be so committed to her Muslim faith that she would have to turn off her conscience to raise her children in another religion. A young dental hygienist may not feel defined by her job and have no trouble giving it up if her significant other got a promotion that would take them overseas, whereas a college professor's position may be central to his identity so that he would be devastated if he had to leave his department due to his partner's relocation.

In short, you should steer clear of any compromise that would alter a core part of yourself that you highly value. I emphasize those last words because change is good when you're ready and willing for it. But if changing yourself is tantamount to revoking the beliefs, values, interests, or objectives that are most important to you, then you will end up unhappy, which will take an equally unhappy toll on your relationship, as discussed in 1. Besides, what does it say about your partner's love for you if he or she wants you to change the very things that make you who you are? Answer: Nothing good.


3. Is my partner compromising too?

This is a biggey, and the answer has to be yes. The definition of compromise is "a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands." (italics added) A one-sided compromise is like one hand clapping. Compromise only deserves that label when both partners are meeting each other halfway.

How you accomplish that is up to you. You might agree to give up something this time if your partner will give up something next time, take on a new responsibility if your partner will help with it, or do something you both like instead of something just one of you loves. All of these are different examples of compromise, but what they have in common is that both partners are sacrificing.

If you're the only one sacrificing, or if you're sacrificing more than your partner, you'll be headed straight back down that road to Unhappyville. Granted, the equity of compromise is subjective, but what matters is that you and your loved one believe your compromise is equitable. For instance, if you're both okay with dividing labor along traditional male-female lines, fine. But if one of you thinks he or she is getting shafted in that role, then you have a problem.


4. Am I really willing to make this compromise?

The worst thing you can do when negotiating a compromise is to vow that changes are forthcoming only to relapse into old habits when asked to make good on your promise. For compromise to work, you need to commit to it. It may seem like the perfect solution to offer to cook dinner while your honey vaccuums the floor, but when you repeatedly "forget" to go to the grocery store or schedule too many business dinners, all bets are off, and your partner will be even more disgruntled than before because you reneged on your word. Before you agree to a compromise, be honest with yourself and your partner about what compromises you're really willing to make. To continue with the example above, if you recoil at the sight of raw chicken fillets and have convinced yourself by now that you like burnt toast, a compromise that has you wearing a chef's hat is unrealistic.

Instead, look for compromises that you know you can carry out with a little effort. So maybe you can't deliver in the kitchen. Okay. Then you might do the laundry or take care of the lawn or put the kids to bed every night. Whatever the compromise, you have to sincerely be willing to tackle and follow through with it.

This also means believing in the compromise. On some level, you have to agree that it's necessary and the right thing to do so that even if it wasn't your first choice, you know that it is, nevertheless, a good choice. By the same token, once you've settled on the compromise, you shouldn't feel resentful or regretful about it. If you do, that's a sign that you may want to return to the preceding guidelines to see how your compromise stacks up.

Ultimately, if you can't embrace the compromise and stick to it, it will be a sticking point for your relationship. There's no justification for spinning your wheels into the ground if you know that you can't get behind a compromise with enough faith and determination to push your relationship out of a rut.



Now, there is one question that you might think I've left out. On the contrary, it's the question that I hope you won't ask when judging whether you should compromise in a relationship: Do I love him/her enough to compromise?

People ask this question all the time, and I believe it contributes to many devastating choices. Why? Because, as I said earlier, compromise is not a measure of love and should not be used that way. If the compromise you're contemplating will have such a detrimental effect on you that you need to reevaluate your whole relationship, then it's a compromise that violates at least one of the principles above. And if you compromise under those conditions, you compromise yourself. Any decision made out of self-compromise is not a decision made out of love. It may be made out of fear (of losing someone), guilt (of seeming selfish), ignorance (of alternatives), or self-righteousness (another discussion in itself). But not love. Love is absent from any compromise that engenders chronic unhappiness, is inconsistent with one's identity, unfairly burdens one partner, or is insincerely made.

Please note that I'm not saying someone who makes such a compromise doesn't love his or her partner. But I'm also not saying that he or she does. What I'm saying is that love has nothing to do with it. The reason I'm so exacting about this is because too many people make untenable compromises because they've bought the lie that compromise is a measure of love, and the more you love, the more you compromise. Believe me, you can love someone more than a fish loves the water and still not want to compromise yourself for him or her, and, conversely, people who do self-compromise don't do it out of love. Yeah, I know that will leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who has a martyr complex, so if it's any comfort to you, I was one of your number for years and am not pointing any fingers.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not arguing that love doesn't entail giving generously to your partner. But you shouldn't give yourself away in the process. When the potential for self-compromise threatens to become reality, sometimes the most loving thing you can do is walk away rather than ask someone else to change for you.


Where do you draw the line between healthy compromise and unhealthy self-sacrifice in a relationship? Have you ever been in a relationship in which you compromised too much? How did you recognize that you had compromised too much? Did you choose to be single, or did you stay in the relationship? What advice would you give to someone trying to decide between singlehood and self-compromise for the sake of a relationship?


Fun Link of the Day


Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

"Anderson Woman Married 23 Times" by Konrad Marshall: A Singletude Response

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled blog posting to announce that Singletude has identified the first ever anti-singletude poster child, Linda Lou Wolfe of Anderson, IN, as reported by Konrad Marshall in an Indystar.com article, "Anderson Woman Married 23 Times."

Wolfe, who was born Linda Lou Taylor and is now 68, holds the Guinness world record for the most marriages of any female in a single lifetime. Her former husbands, apparently chosen for their aptitude to quickly and effectively end marriages, include a convict, a homeless man, and two who weren't even straight.

Perhaps desperate to wipe her slate clean in the eyes of God, Taylor Scott Street Smith Moyer Massie McMillan Berisford Chandler Essex, etc. married a Baptist minister, Glynn "Scotty" Wolfe, the male record holder for most marriages, becoming wife number 29. It seems the man of the cloth married so often to avoid the sin of premarital sex. His final marriage to Taylor, etc., a publicity stunt that never paid off, ended when he passed away shortly before their first anniversary.

Good thing he wasn't Muslim. He already got his share of virgins.

Wolfe advises singles to "just get married the once and stay married. I have not had a bed of roses, believe me." That is very true. Instead, she got cheated on, choked, beaten, and padlocked in a refrigerator by her dear hubbies. Nevertheless, she says, "I would get married again because, you know, it gets lonely."

I understand. I too get lonely when a man hasn't padlocked me in a refrigerator in awhile.

Seriously, if there was ever a person totally and utterly lacking in singletude, this must be it. One wonders what would happen to her if she let herself be single for a day. Would she explode like a piece of wedding cake smashed in a young bride's face? Would she melt like a groom's perspiring brow? Wolfe must've feared so. Why else would she have rushed 23 men to the altar--that's an average of one man almost every two years since she started her wedding spree at 16--even marrying one guy three times? (You know, after two times, you gotta figure something isn't working.)

Singletude readers, I don't think I even have to tell you to do as Wolfe says, not as she does. Marriage can be a celebration of a loving union between two people, or it can be a prop for someone who can't stand on his or her own two legs. It's a commitment that two individuals should enter into because they want to live their lives side by side, not because either of them won't have a life without the other. And those vows should be made thoughtfully and carefully, with the intention of fulfilling them, not with divorceonline.com already in your bookmarks.

To people like Wolfe, I say if you can't marry for the right reasons, then don't marry at all. And mere "loneliness" is not a good enough reason! There are plenty of social organizations you can join to combat that, and none of them require a lawyer when you part ways with them. This woman needs a bumper sticker that says, "Reckless Marriages Destroy Lives."

Whew! Okay, I've said my piece. Or peace. Speak now, dear readers, or forever hold it. What do you think about Wolfe's 23 marriages? Do you think loneliness in itself is a good enough reason to marry? What do you think are good reasons to marry? How do you know when someone is the right one?

He's Just Not That Into You: A Singletude Review

I'm putting today's planned post about single homeowning on hold because the cinematic version of Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo's bestseller, He's Just Not That Into You, debuted this past weekend. Since the book's title became a rallying cry for countless singles, I know some of you will be lining up to pay homage to its truisms about boys behaving badly and the women who love them. So before you open your wallet and part with the equivalent of three Starbucks runs for the privilege of crushing someone else's cold popcorn kernels into the seat of your pants as the teenage boy behind you generously massages your back with swift, sure, repetitive kicks, I thought I'd put myself in the hot seat and possibly spare you the trouble.

As you may have inferred from previous statements such as "I hate Greg Behrendt," I really don't like Greg Behrendt. I didn't like the simplistic, one-size-fits-all philosophy he espoused in his book, so I didn't think I'd like the movie either. Well, the movie may not have been this year's Love, Actually, but as your standard rainy day romantic comedy, it wasn't half bad, and, to my surprise, I didn't have to give it an automatic thumbs down for towing the Behrendt line. If anything, the movie disputes his theory or at least leaves room for the messier elements of life that complicate relationships.

He's Just Not That Into You employs a star-studded ensemble as a selling point, and the acting is expectedly solid, but the Dickensian web of relationships is more convoluted than clever. I found myself wishing that the writers had condensed the book's talking points into just two or three arcs instead of creating a new character to illustrate each one. As a result, the characters fail to take on lives of their own and have about as much color and dimension as black-and-white sketches accompanying Behrendt's anecdotes. There's Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin), the neurotic, pink phone clutching embarrassment to single women everywhere who manages to make every mistake in the dating book but can't imagine why guys don't call her back; Connor (Kevin Connolly), the object of her obsession, who just isn't that into her; Greg Behr--err, Alex (Justin Long), who just isn't that into anyone and makes it his mission to educate Gigi in the secret code of men; sexpot Anna (Scarlett Johansson), who throws herself at a married man, as all voluptuous blondes do; the philandering married man (Bradley Cooper), who of course won't leave his predictably uptight wife (Jennifer Connelly); and several other characters cobbled together from folk wisdom about the evils of cohabitation and the Internet.

The exception in this tribute to rules is Beth, a breath of circulating, if not fresh, air played with real poignancy by Jennifer Aniston, who must know a thing or two about the role of the long-suffering girlfriend coming to terms with her boyfriend's (Ben Affleck) contempt for the institution of marriage. Hers is the only story that pushes the boundaries of the cliche, though it ultimately does a 180 and ends up reinforcing them.

Interspersed with the vignettes are mockumentary-style interviews with sad examples of the female sex, who bolster the book's unstated but unavoidable blame-the-victim thesis. There are some genuinely funny lines here as well as throughout the rest of the movie, which is entertaining enough to rent the DVD and throw a pajama party. But there are also agonizing moments of heartbreak and humiliation that will hit close to home for singles who have been "on the market" for awhile without offering any insight or solution worth a $10 ticket.

And aren't insight and solutions what fans are expecting of the movie based on their favorite self-help book? For them, He's Just Not That Into You will surely disappoint and confuse for the same reasons that it surprised and pleased me: it doesn't actually support the book's prescription for dating success.

See, Behrendt would like single women to believe that men are all-or-nothing roboclones programmed to respond to the opposite sex in one of two ways--either flick them off like dung flies or fly them to the moon on a diamond-encrusted jet. No in between. And, according to Behrendt, this should be the case whether a couple has just met or been together for 30 years. Any man who hesitates to ask a woman out, call her back, commit to a relationship, or marry her just isn't into her and never will be. His philosophy of love leaves no room for baggage, shyness, insecurity, immaturity, or differences in romantic style, much less for the feelings that can blossom out of friendship over time. Plus, by absolving both parties of any blame, he does a disservice to both men and women. The message is that, whether you're a man who rejects women repeatedly and ruthlessly or a woman who's been repeatedly and ruthlessly rejected, you couldn't possibly have any problems except that you haven't found the right one.

Without throwing out any spoilers, let's just say that the movie contradicts this premise, and that, in my opinion, is its saving grace. It shows us relationships, in all their glorious sloppiness, breaking the rules. Friendships grow slowly into something deeper, men rethink their feelings and learn to commit over time, women make the first move and sometimes do get the guy. Interwoven with these anti-lessons are examples that support the book, too, but they succeed because they apply to superficial relationships, and that's where Behrendt's rules are of value. Your mother could've told you--and probably did--that most married men won't leave their wives for a fling. And, given the multiple avenues of communication available in our global society, if a guy doesn't contact you after the first date, he doesn't want a second helping of your wit and charm. Behrendt's problem is that he tries to force those broad-based guidelines to work in specific situations in which complex interactions of personal history, psychological needs, personality dynamics, and value systems determine the course of a relationship. The movie trumps the book because it acknowledges that a catchphrase like "he's just not that into you" isn't sufficient to explain those interactions.

But what I like best about this movie isn't just that it contradicts its source material; it affirms the single life in a way the book never did. In the end, no less than three characters choose to be alone for awhile, and that choice is presented not with pity but with acceptance and encouragement. As the camera pans through a final montage, the concluding voiceover reminds us that sometimes the happy ending is you on your own, making a new life for yourself. I'm into that!

He's Just Not That Into You won't win any awards, but it's cute, true to life, and surprisingly singles-friendly. If you're in the mood to waste some money this weekend, watch with my blessing.


Fun Link of the Day


(Read it and cringe.)



Do you have a question for Clever Elsie about some aspect of the single life? Have a rant or rave about singlehood? Write in, and you just might see your question in a Singletude Q&A or your rant or rave in a Singletude Sound-off!

Single and Independent

I hope you all had a sparkling, popping Fourth of July weekend and didn't let a little rain dampen your plans if you live anywhere near me!

Although Independence Day celebrates the liberation of the United States from British rule, this weekend it provoked some thought about personal independence. Many people consider the single lifestyle synonymous with independence. Since we live in a world designed for couples, we singles are certainly forced to be more self-reliant. Don't believe me? Let's look at the following scenarios:


1. The average cost of a house in the U.S. in 2007 was $308,275. According to this mortgage calculator, at an annual interest rate of 5.75%, a 30-year mortgage for an average house demands a household income of $77,100.40. Yet households earning more than $60,000 a year had a median of two income earners as of 2006, while households earning less had a median of just one. Clearly, home ownership is designed for couples.

2. A plumber, electrician, or other contractor needs to make a visit. Someone has to be home to let him in. This would require that someone be home at least part-time if not full-time, and, of course, most part-time workers are married women. In the worst case scenario, in which both members of a couple work full-time, one of them may have to take a day off and, if he or she works for hourly wages, forfeit that day's paycheck. However, a single person has no one else to stay home and no second paycheck to help make up the financial loss.

3. It's moving day. It takes two people to lift that dresser. And that couch. And that chest full of mothballs that Grandma gave you.

4. An important package needs to be weighed and sent by certified mail, stat. But the post office is only open till 6:00. Meanwhile, creditors are pressing for payment of a bill, which means that paycheck has to be deposited today, but the bank also closes at 6:00. For couples, this is a no brainer. One of them goes to the post office after work, the other to the bank. But for singles, being in two places at once is a lot trickier.

5. When traveling to an unfamiliar destination, it sure is helpful to have a designated map reader.


These are just a few examples of everyday challenges in which the assistance of a partner is assumed. To cope with these situations, we singles have to double our efforts and learn how to maximize our strengths to pick up the slack that a partner would otherwise tighten. We are, one might say, modern-day Emersons living his theory of self-reliance, pioneers bucking the mantle of traditional coupledom to brave the frontier of singlehood.

Furthermore, our self-sufficiency extends beyond the solo completion of menial tasks to encompass a mindset or spirit of independence. It's not that unusual for marrieds to flounder without each other, especially when they've been together a long time. When separated, their responses may vary from boredom and loneliness on the milder end of the spectrum to panic and complete immobilization. For example, we all know that guy who pokes around in the kitchen like a helpless hound without a scent trail when his wife isn't home to cook him dinner. Likewise, we can all think of a woman who hyperventilates when hubby isn't around to explain that smoke pouring out from under the hood of the car isn't just bad for the scent of her freshly shampooed hair, it's bad for the engine, too.

In contrast, we singles with singletude are comfortable entertaining ourselves. Quiet time doesn't scare us more than an encounter with Tom Cruise in a dark alley. We can work without oversight. We enjoy the freedom of planning our own schedules and setting our own budgets. What's more, we can probably nuke a meal with our eyes closed and know what's under the hood of the car...or have the number of a mechanic who does. We recognize that trials and tribulations are part of life and feel confident that we will overcome them whether or not we own a marriage certificate.

Yes, singles are definitely an independent bunch. Or at least we're independent-minded. Whether or not we intended to be single, our independence is a source of pride more often than not. But this weekend, in true devil's advocate form, I began to wonder if singles are really as independent as we think. Is it true that we're more independent than our married friends? What exactly is independence anyway and what is its value?

Singletude can't answer all these questions, but I can pose them and provide some statistics that might point in one direction or another. For example, singles who have never been married are more likely to live at home with their parents than are those who are or were previously married. Singles also receive more financial handouts from their parents than marrieds do. Plus, although I'm not aware of any research on the number of singles that have roommates, who presumably share the burden of rent and residential maintenance, we can estimate from the U.S. Census Bureau's 2006 survey that if there are 89.9 million legal singles, 47.7 million of whom either live alone, with children, or with an unmarried romantic partner, then 42.1 million must live with roommates or other family members. That's a substantial portion of the single population! So, in some ways at least, perhaps singles are less independent than we give ourselves credit for.

This begs the question of how we define independence and whether some forms of independence have more value than others. Is a single woman who gets some parental help with her rent less independent than a wife who demands her husband stay home seven nights a week because she can't bear to be alone? How about a single man who lives with his parents but otherwise looks after himself versus a married man who can't do his own laundry? In American society, we tend to view married couples as more independent than singles in either of these situations (or even sometimes singles in general, which is a travesty), but we may be overlooking a reality that transcends marital status, the reality that humans are interdependent creatures.

That's right. We're social animals. And since Singletude is a humanistic blog, I feel compelled to point out that interdependence is a natural state for which we're evolutionarily designed. Now, I don't want to mix up interdependence with dependence or, as some relationship gurus like to call it, codependence, an inability to care for oneself as a separate individual. Obviously, the value of self-sufficiency is that adults today will spend over half their lives alone, and those who don't have a life raft of family or friends to fall back on need to swim for themselves to stay afloat. But a wholly independent life isn't historically the norm and may not be ideal for us, single or married. Humans have always lived in communities, and it's the rare individual who has learned to survive outside of them. The fact that isolation even within the community has become the new American standard doesn't mean it's what's best for us as human beings. So perhaps it's to be expected that adults who don't have mates would turn to other relations and friends for support.

Independence has long been an American ideal, but maybe it's time to reevaluate our conception of it. Maybe what we should really be promoting and teaching our kids (for those of us who will have them one day) is interdependence, the concept that people aren't made to go it entirely alone and that while those who do may be admired for their courage and dedication, it's not something that everyone can or should do. We're built for specialization and for socialization, which means that not everyone is equipped to do every task or to spend long periods totally alone. Instead of proudly insisting that we can do these things, no matter how unpleasant they are, maybe we should be looking for ways to integrate with other friends and family members to create a society in which everyone contributes and everyone benefits, rather than walling ourselves off to struggle alone as a matter of pride.


Do you think of yourself as an independent single? Do you think you're more independent than the coupled people you know? What does it mean to you to be "independent"? Do you value independence highly, or would you rather be more connected and interdependent?





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Online Dating Pros and Cons, Part II

Last time, Singletude reviewed the reasons that online dating is the best thing since going steady. But before the Match.coms and Yahoo! Personals of the world start gloating, let's be frank--dating sites aren't a quick fix for bars or setups. For the sake of balanced discussion, let's focus in on the dark side of meeting a mate in cyberspace.



CONS



1. Online dating services create the illusion of a larger dating pool but don't always deliver on that promise. While metropolitan areas may have oodles of singles, rural locations may not turn up a blip on the 20-mile search radar. Even if you're willing to travel, you may find that the residents of those teeming cities are not. For those who do choose to begin a long-distance relationship, their budding romance will be tested by the constraints of physical separation, a burden that has broken many a stable long-term partnership.

Plus, matchmaking sites have a dirty little secret--the millions of members they flaunt aren't all paid subscribers, and in most cases, only subscribers can initiate and respond to communication. For example, as of 2004, Match.com had 20 million members but only 910,000 subscribers! (Match.com has apparently stopped reporting updated statistics since they've been losing traffic.) So out of every 20 members you write to, only one will be able to respond. Statistically speaking, the odds are the same as your chances of becoming a victim of violent crime. Better cross your fingers you're his/her type!


2. While this may not be a con for everyone, singles seeking serious relationships will find that the web is a magnet for serial daters attracted by the endless supply of fresh pickings. Thus it can be easy to book a date for the movies but not so much a date for the wedding. On the plus side, there are sites like eHarmony, Chemistry, and True which cater to those who want long-term commitments, but they expect you to pay for the privilege of meeting men and women who are interested in more than sex or free dinner.


3. Online dating sites are very competitive, especially for men. On many sites, men outnumber women seven to three. So it's a buyer's market for the ladies, who can afford to be choosier. However, this doesn't mean that women automatically get their pick of the litter, particularly if they've all set their sights on the same subset of handsome, successful guys. The outcome is that members of both sexes rant and rail about how often they're snubbed and passed over. This can make for a frustrating, disheartening, and even soul-crushing experience if you don't have rock-solid self-esteem.


4. If you want to succeed at online dating, you must be photogenically blessed. On the World Wide Web, the photo is king. Many members won't look twice at profiles that don't include one, which means you'll have to throw anonymity to the wind. Moreover, it's not enough for you to just post a photo. It has to be a good photo, defined as one that makes you look like Niki Taylor or Tyson Beckford. The attractive girl- or guy-next-door look won't get you a wink, much less a date.

The problem is that lots of people aren't too photogenic. Still shots focus attention on facial flaws, which aren't as noticeable in person due to the distraction of continuous motion, speech, and nonverbal expression. Critics of online dating services complain that they get few responses even though they have no problem attracting interest in real life and people who know them personally consider them physically appealing.


5. What you see on a dating site isn't always what you get. Despite the certainty of eventual humiliation and rejection, some members fudge their age, height, weight, hair color (or lack thereof), income, and even marital status. Exaggerations, omissions, and outright lies also abound in the freewriting sections, in which some singles magically become far more outgoing, charming, witty, intelligent, confident, sophisticated, and comfortable in both dress clothes and jeans than they'll ever be in the real world. Granted some of these lies are unintentional, the product of wishful thinking combined with a lack of self-awareness. But the effect is the same--when you meet Mr. or Ms. Too Good To Be True, you feel disappointed and deceived.

Now, it's important to remember that liars don't just lurk online; you can get conned by someone you meet at a bar, in a class, or on the job, too. But when you meet in person, at least you know upfront if you're getting a Cameron Diaz or a Camryn Manheim, a George Clooney or a Boy George. Plus, the more integrated someone is into your world (as with a coworker or friend of a friend), the harder it is for them to hide behind a facade. When your only point of contact is the Internet, a player can keep the game going longer.


6. The shopping mall setup of Internet dating sites enables users to treat other people like commodities. Visit any online dating review site, and you'll see plenty of grousing about this one. Whether online dating encourages this mentality or online daters bring it to the table is anybody's guess, but dating site members are quite vocal about its entrenchment in the web community. Their argument is that dating sites, with their customizable search forms, impersonal methods of communication, and constant influx of fresh blood, enable users to be overly selective, treating people like consumer goods who can be disposed of and replaced as soon as something better comes along.

As a rebuttal to this theory, there is no proof, as far as I'm aware, that online dating site members are pickier than the general public. The fact of the matter is that dating sites allow singles to interact with more people on a given day than they might meet in months or even years of barhopping, so of course they're going to collect more rejections, too. It's a numbers game. The difference is that rejection on a dating site is more obvious because it requires people to be blunter than they would be in person.

If you ignore an email--or, worse, reply with a "no"--you've sent an undeniable message of rejection. However, if you go out to a bar and you're a man, you simply won't approach the women you're not interested in. At the end of the night, those women will go home, and not one of them will think, "Hey, only five guys hit on me, so the other hundred in the bar must think I'm unattractive." If you're a woman approached by a man you're not into, you might make some small talk and then leave for the night with an excuse or a noncommittal "see ya around." Often the guy will massage his ego with the assumption that you were just shy or really did have to get home to feed the abandoned baby porcupines you adopted. On a dating site, however, there's no room to misconstrue a rejection, so naturally you seem to get more of them.

This is not to say that people haven't become overly selective or don't treat their fellow humans like recyclable plastics, but my theory is that this is a widespread phenomenon in contemporary society and is not exclusive to the web. In my experience, most singles I know don't use Internet dating services (and most couples I know didn't, either), and they still reject(ed) and are/were rejected by lots of potential mates. Nevertheless, the immediacy, candor, and volume of the rejections on a dating site can make it a poor choice of stomping grounds for all but the thickest skins.


7. The Internet is a subpar communications forum that fosters a disconnect between single daters. Or so the theory goes. There's no doubt that emails and IMs can't match the richness and complexity of in-person communication. It also may be true that the facelessness of cyberspace depersonalizes people, making it easier for them to be rude, inconsiderate, and dismissive to one another. Some critics go a step further, claiming that Internet dating erodes real-life social skills, although that's stretching it in my book. Most of us still have to interact with colleagues, friends, family, and retailers every day, so we have plenty of opportunities to practice. More threatening than the Internet, I think, is the permissive parenting that teaches kids it's okay to dehumanize each other. The web is simply the field on which these internalized lessons are played out. However, it does seem easier to get away with this on the 'Net, and singles wishing for more personal accountability in their interactions might want to stay away from online dating sites.


8. Yes, Virginia, there really are safety hazards in online dating. Contrary to popular perception, though, they don't usually include psychotic killers. What you're more likely to encounter are dating site scammers, a new breed of criminal who create false personas and lure hopeful, sympathetic singles to send them large sums of money. Also, like any other web site, a dating service is subject to hackers and credit card or identity thieves.


9. The monthly fees of online dating services can add up, and calculating the cost isn't always a straightforward task. Yes, most dating sites allow you unrestricted access for the cost of one dinner date a month. But don't forget that you'll be paying for that access in addition to the dinner dates that you land as a result. Obviously, this is an inequity that tends to fall squarely on the shoulders of the guys. On the other hand, you may never score a date while you keep emptying your wallet to the matchmaking site month after month, and when you finally do, it may lead nowhere.

Furthermore, you may get roped into forking over much more than you estimated. That's because dating sites that charge monthly subscription fees also enforce an autorenewal process, which automatically bills you for another subscription period if you don't take action to resign. (If you only signed up for a free trial, you will automatically be billed for the initial subscription period.) Since this is contrary to most other American subscription-based services, which lapse unless you actively renew, dating sites prey on users' understanding of consumer norms.

Also be aware that although many sites offer discounted packages to those who subscribe for more than one month at a time, unlike true monthly subscriptions, you won't be charged once a month. Instead, you'll be billed in one lump sum, and if you're dissatisfied with some aspect of the service afterward, chances of a refund are slim.


10. Some dating sites are rumored to engage in unethical business practices. For starters, nearly all of them force you to undertake a copious registration process before they disclose their fees. Oftentimes they use ambiguous language to convince you that you'll have free access to services that aren't free at all. More disturbingly, for years members have been accusing online matchmakers of generating fake profiles and emails to lure them in for a bait-and-switch, although such claims are unsubstantiated. Other users have attested that they were charged repeatedly even after resigning. Still others have alleged that some dating services failed to grant promised discounts or refunds. In addition, online dating services are notorious for poor customer service. Often they bury their contact information in remote, inaccessible corners of their web sites or fail to provide live service altogether.



At first glance, there are more cons than pros for joining an online dating service, and you may wonder why anyone would subject themselves to the anxiety, uncertainty, embarrassment, and pain of romance on the web. However, a number of the cons are not applicable to everyone or even to just online dating. Dating anywhere, at any time, is difficult, and some of us will have better experiences than others. Furthermore, for some singles, the pros of online dating sites far outweigh the cons.


Have you ever tried online dating? What are some disadvantages to dating online? Can you share any negative experiences that you've had?


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