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So when conservatives argue that same-sex couples are going to “destroy” the “sanctity” of marriage, we wonder, wait, didn’t we already do that? “Social science tells us fundamentally that this system is not working,” says Curtis Bergstrand, a sociologist at Bellarmine University in Louisville, Ky., who has written on marriage. Having donned our share of bridesmaid’s dresses, and toasted dozens of nuptials, we’ll take reason over romance. Happily ever after doesn’t have to include “I do.”

via The Case Against Marriage – Newsweek.

My parents got divorced when I was 4, but I’m not really certain this is why I’m against marriage. I’m certainly career-focused, but it’s not like I’m “married to my job,” either. It’s just that I’ve never really been able to come up with a good enough reason to consider matrimony. I’d never take someone’s last name, and to see women give theirs up has always confused me, and, in recent years, made me a little sad. On the rare occasion I think of the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, I’d rather he be a teammate and not a provider — this just doesn’t seem like the type of situation that would warrant a  wedding. And about that “father of my children” thing? Being a capable mother without putting my children through emotional trauma will be pressure enough.

Maybe it’s me always having one foot out the door, but at 25, I also know that I’m just not built to be given away.

It hasn’t been a completely comfortable process, dealing with my personal network of brides-to-be (all of them are from my home state of Indiana). Once, at a bar, I told one of them to stop talking about wedding planning. She responded with, “well, I’m sorry I’m getting married.” Yeesh. I’m definitely cast as the bad friend/jealous bridesmaid/hostile single friend, but my feelings are actually the opposite.  I’m more than happy to catch flights, buy gifts and dance around on parquet floors. I’m actually in awe of friends who’ve found love and want to build a life with their mates. I can’t wait to watch their families grow, visit their new homes and meet their children. Why? Because I happen to believe that even though we don’t  want the same things, we can be happy for each other. Some women just want to be married, just like others can’t even bring themselves to imagine it (hi). All I ask from my marrying friends is to try and come to that same conclusion, without shrugging off my thoughts as Jealous Singlehood.

And, as entertaining as they are to read, the biggest problem with articles like these is that they continue to encourage that single-married divide, when in fact plenty of women are trying to happily occupy the space between bridesmaid and bride.

Phillip Toledano – Days with My Father.

It’s about a man who photographs his last few months (years?) with his father, a man who, as far as I could tell, was loving, supportive and proud.

I clicked through the pictures and found myself tearing up, and then crying, because you can clearly feel the bond between this father and son. I found myself thinking that, in a perfect world, I’d have the time or space or ability to follow my dad around with a camera, too. I wish I could. I hope someday I will.

Life is moving so fast. I wonder, now, what my regrets will be.

The truth is, though, that people don’t really get those moments of clarity about each other until they know their time together is coming to an end. It’s like gorging yourself in hopes of prolonging hunger. Moments with my grandparents felt similar, and I worry I didn’t stuff myself with enough good memories. Like how it felt to be 22 and telling my grandpa about my trip abroad, because he hadn’t been well enough to meet me in London. Or how it was to be 13 and always feeling ugly — that is, until my grandmother held my hands in her tiny ones and told me the opposite.

Now that they’re gone, I have a different focus. I always want to remember how it felt to be 8 and swimming in Lake Superior with my summer clothes on because, well, my dad let me. I kept my eyes open underwater and swam until I came to a  sudden drop, where the yellow sand beneath me gave way to this deep, blue-black nothing I’ll never forget. I want to remember sputtering, wheeling around and paddling back toward shore, where safety tended to welcome me back on my own terms.