I sit, here, in my chair which leans back way too far, (and doesn't stop, mind you) in the library and type. Yes, now I've painted you a portrait of the moment I'm in which you will forever appreciate. If, for some CRAZY reason, that doesn't do it for you, allow me to tell you this: I sit next to a porn-crazed young man, who seems neither to care nor worry that he's looking at explicit photos in a very public place. And on the other side is a delightful young woman, planning her wedding. At least, she's studying online wedding dresses with great intent. Aside from studying their respective subjects quite... obsessively, what is the interest in these two young students?
I commend them both. On a thursday at 10:52 am, in between my theater class and my political science class, I am treated to two equally different perspectives on the world. The female mind, which from a young age fantasizes about the wedding, the beauty, the pageantry, and the chance to feel like a princess for once (or twice, if you've been featured on "My Sweet Sixteen" on MTV) in their lives.
Men, on the other hand (unless you're a homosexual, in which case you've been planning your wedding for years, until you realize you're not sure who'll wear the dress) are interested in sex. From a young age where they realize they have reproductive organs, it becomes the selfish desire to fufill the hormonal instinct to make them feel good. Marriage is a step to a rather constant booty-call.
No doubt I deserve some lambasting for that comment, but I don't think women understand the level of men's sexual drive. Truth be told it's a somewhat sad generalization, but perhaps a true one nevertheless. Especially here in Mormon Country. Many men in the Real World (again, no reference, or maybe some reference to the MTV hit) avoid marriage for years because it ties down their options. Why do you think there is a rash of commitment phobia? Whereas to mormons, it's the opening of the gates to a sexual revolution. Don't believe me? Go on a mission.
Yes, I said go on a mission. Now despite the intriguing stats about men hooking up with each other on their mission, I will focus instead on the discussions which take place regarding women. Missionaries are dirty. (Apologies are handed out like tissue to anyone who may be saddened over this news.)
It's a simple fact because we always want what we can't have, and mormons can't have sex. But missionaries can't even have female company. Naturally their thoughts, their conversations, and their secret masturbatory sessions in the shower turn to the fairer sex. Construed, alas, in a much dirtier way.
How many conversations about "past sins" or slipups with girlfriends are reveled in? How many fantasies about a quick blowjob on the way from the temple to the cultural hall reception are spun? How many lists of "hot places to do it" are dreamt up to bide time until the real deal? Personally I lucked out. I had two many other issues I was working through to be so caught up in the sex fantasy. But don't think I didn't hear it from virtually every other missionary I knew.
Missionaries return from the mission anxious, pent-up, and ready for marriage. Strike that, ready for sex. And since that's a no-no with out the bells, marriage = sex. I hardly think that men who've spent the last two years running around a foreign country, or even our own, with only the company of other men, focused solely on teaching people "what god has to say to you, gentiles" is really ready for a relationship spanning... eternity?
One would think that a great deal of thought would be placed upon the selection of someone you believe you'll NEVER get away from.
Instead, hormones take a bit more precedence in men's reasoning than they should, and women who are ready to finally do something with their lives (which in the church equates to matronly duty) form a dynamic companionship who's spark will eventually explode. To their credit, this is usually built up and kept in check for years longer than the initial courting rituals that lead to it (avg. 2 months?). This is thankfully accomplished to a long set of church imposed rules, hyper-activity with religious callings and duties, accidental children, peer and church sanctioned guilt, and a dash of prozac.
The explosion will come, quietly or otherwise, on the wings of actuality and in that clever messenger realization. Everyone pictures how things are going to be. Sometimes we're close, but never dead on. And the harder we cling to these pictures, the more unprepared we are for the reality of it. When she realizes he's not prince charming, he's just some man who happened to say the right things to her and be there when she needed, she'll be devestated. When he discovers that a marriage isn't constant sex, that there's a personality to be reckoned with, and a lot of independence forfeited, he'll panic. Neither of these realizations make these people bad. Just rushed. Rushing so quickly to get to something they thought they wanted they won't realize they're not paying attention to what they're really recieving. And that's a hard thing to take.
Maybe it can be worked out and you can grow to love the one you're now tied to. Or maybe not. The worst part is that some of these marriages won't end. Neither will acknowledge how unhappy they truly are and find scapegoats and diversions to take up the time they ought to be using for self-analysis.
But that's painful and pain should be avoided at all costs.
This is a broad, sweeping stereotype, and I know many a happy couple who don't seem to have this problem. And yet, there are those, too many it seems, who fall within it. The church is not exactly my point of attack here, because people, as the LDSers will teach us, have free agency. A truth, and a convient truth for the church structure, because you're always the vicitim of yourself. I can't agree with that more. We all have our hang-ups, but make them your own hang-ups, and don't accept programming or instilled hang ups.
Men and women. Two very different creatures who, in a straight, gay, or otherwise world, are just looking for happiness. All we do is motivated by what will make us happy. To the man left of me, it's large breasted women taking it hardcore. To the girl right, it's a knight on a white horse with a diamond ring. To me, it's writing nasty blogs about a culture I can't escape.
To each his own.
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