A few days ago, I was talking with one of my co-workers about marriage. Another co-worker is getting married, and this first woman thinks it’s a mistake (she’s too young, she doesn’t know what commitment is, it’s too flippant, they don’t appreciate the sanctity of marriage—the older co-worker doesn’t say these things, exactly, but I think they’re the essence of what she feels about it). I like this older co-worker, in general. She’s one of the easiest people to get along with at work—truth be told, she seems to like me more than anyone else, which makes me like her. (How silly—but natural, I suppose—is that?)
So, she’s going on about how she doesn’t understand why young people are throwing themselves into this misunderstood institution, and I said something about how I agree with her, largely, and that I currently find the idea of committing myself to another person to the extent that marriage requires to be nauseating.
“Oh, marriage isn’t for everyone,” she said. “But I can see you in a copacetic relationship some day.” I gave her a very puzzled look.
“Copacetic is exactly what I don’t want—that’s the burden of it, you know, centering your life around a so-so thing.”
“No, copacetic in the sense of having a companion-relationship arrangement. Non-romantic, non-sexual.”
I kind of shrugged it off at the time and changed the subject, but it’s really been bothering me. Is that how I come off to people? I am afraid it is. I mean, I’ve found people to date—especially recently—but I know that people date for all sorts of wacky reasons… and so maybe I date guys who (on some level) want someone they won’t have to commit to, or maybe they’re just really lonely… or maybe they want something copacetic.
I’ve heard guys talk about this. I have a friend who I think is great—she’s smart, funny, kind, talented, cute, very social… and yet I was up drinking one night with a group of four guys who all know her, and I was getting them to admit to who they like, and they were going through our list of friends. At least one of them admitted to liking almost everyone who came up. But when I asked about her, they all shook their heads.
“Nah,” one of them said, “she’s just not the kind of woman guys ever get crushes on.”
I didn’t push it—I don’t know if it’s because she’s successful, confident, or good at sports—but they were set and of one clear accord: she was not crush-able. Maybe that’s me? Maybe that’s what everyone’s always seen, and it just took this one lady saying it out loud for me to really know it too?
Or maybe she’s just some woman who doesn’t know anything about me but the image I project at work and her words shouldn’t carry so much weight.
the commentary