Unqualified

  The exact opposite happened when my parents came to meet their grandson for the first time. Long before I went into labor, my parents had planned a trip to Turkey for that August ( Jack was due in October, so it seemed like a perfect time to go away), so they were on a boat when Jack was born. When they got back, Jack was still in the NICU but he was about three weeks old. I was so excited, because he had grown a lot. I was calmer, and I’d gotten used to the NICU routine of pumping and scrubbing and pumping again. I was just thrilled to introduce them to their first grandchild. But after my parents walked into the NICU, my dad saw Jack and he burst into tears in a way that was joyous but also full of concern, and it made me realize how little my baby appeared to strangers and to the family that already had so much love for him.

  • • •

  When Jack was four pounds, three ounces, we took him home. Getting the news that he could finally leave reminded me of waiting to get my Cabbage Patch doll when I was young. Finally the call came in—I could go to Toys“R”Us and pick up Rebecca, my brunette Cabbage Patch Kid. I wanted a blond like me, but a brunette is what came, so what can you do? I’d been waiting for her so long, and finally, she was coming to my house.

  Jack was an actual, live human being, not a plastic doll, but I took Rebecca really seriously.

  We left the hospital as a family on September 12—nearly a month after Jack’s August 17 birthday—knowing that we really couldn’t know what was coming. It felt so good to put him in that car seat, but also tragic because there were a few parents who we’d become close to who weren’t able to take their babies home. On the flip side, we’d already been the parents watching with jealousy as other families left the hospital with their kids. It really was a weird environment.

  Even after we got home I was taking Jack to daily appointments with brain specialists and heart specialists and eye doctors and physical therapists. We continued to hope for the best, but we knew that we wouldn’t be sure about Jack’s development for some time. Still, by the time he reached four or five months old he was incredibly engaging, and by ten months he was superactive. There was nothing about him that seemed checked out. Not that I really knew what I should be looking for—the doctor told us we wouldn’t know anything for sure until Jack was about a year and a half. But he was speaking at an early age, and people were constantly telling us how smart he was, which I know people probably say to all new parents, but it took on even more meaning for me. I was constantly seeking reassurance. You think so? Really? I wanted to be sure other people were seeing what I was—a kid who seemed largely on track for his age—because I knew better than to trust my own judgment. I am a mom, after all, and what mom doesn’t think her baby is a genius?

  But our instincts were right, and it turned out that Jack’s development was progressing completely on par for his age. Today, he’s a happy five-year-old full of wonder and mischief. He still has a couple of physical problems—his legs have high tone and often appear stiff, so he walks on his tiptoes a lot. He wears glasses and has to wear an eye patch for twenty minutes a day to strengthen his vision. But given that these are the biggest challenges, we count ourselves as extremely lucky. There are plenty of parents who walk out of the NICU and don’t have as wonderful a story. In fact, premature birth is now the leading cause of death of children worldwide, including in North America. Chris and I have become involved with Healthy Pregnancy 2030, which is working to find ways to prevent preterm and stillbirth, because we know how fortunate we are to have had a happy ending. So the fact that we have a charming and outgoing and athletic kid who loves dinosaurs and introducing himself to people, Chris and I are both grateful every day.

  So grateful, in fact, that we find ourselves giving in to things we know we shouldn’t. For instance, when I was pregnant, it seemed like all my mom friends had the same advice: “Do not ever let your child get into the habit of sleeping in bed with you.” Chris and I are completely guilty of this. Even now, when Jack crawls into bed next to me, it’s hard not to kind of love it. He’ll kiss my back or pet me and I am so aware of the fact that in another year or so he’ll have no interest in cuddling with his mom, so how could I kick him out?

  Today, Jack is at a beautiful age. He has some temper tantrums occasionally (did I mention he’s five?) but he’s a really good kid and he’s happy and delicious and likes cuddles and I recognize he will not be like this for long.

  I think it’s foolish for anyone to make major decisions like having a kid without a lot of introspection and examining from all angles and recognizing the complications a child introduces into your life. Because there are times when your kid really bugs you, and there are times you can’t do something you want to because you don’t have a babysitter. And there are for sure some moments when every parent wonders, Why did I do this? What do I get out of having children? I know it’s a selfish perspective, but you can’t help but think about it every now and then. But it’s in those moments early in the morning when I’m listening to Jack giggle, or when his little fat foot starts kicking me in the back in bed, that I remember.

  Raising a child in LA, especially for Chris and me, feels so incredibly weird sometimes. Neither of us grew up in this environment, surrounded by wealth and self-centeredness and narcissism. I think that’s why it’s especially important to both of us that we raise a conscientious child. We want so much for him to be a kind person. That’s the big goal. To raise a kind boy who understands that Mommy and Daddy work hard and came to this town not knowing anybody and, granted, we had privileges being white American citizens of Germanic heritage, but still we came here with not a lot at all.

  I want Jack to always understand the idea of hard work and perseverance, as cheesy and old-fashioned as that sounds. It kind of flies in the face of LA in general, which is why I think we’ve been struggling in terms of where we want to raise him. Do we send him to a private school where they raise chickens and build robots out of rubber or whatever the fuck they do, and pay a small fortune? Or do we send him to a public school where he gets exposure to more diversity and the realities of class and racial discrimination? Truth be told, we will probably choose the former because if you have the resources to send your kid to a school where a teacher can teach a class of only seven children rather than thirty how to read, why not do that? It feels a little self-serving to say, “You are going to have the experience that I had,” when perhaps we’re lucky enough to be able to give him more, or better, than that. I don’t want him to have the mediocre high school experience that I did. I don’t want him to have to deal with tired teachers and bullies in the locker room. Even though I think that made me stronger, it would be kind of cruel to force it on someone else.

  But I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I used to think I might be eager for Jack to grow up a little and be more of a real person, but now he’s just graduating toddlerhood, and I didn’t think I’d ever say this but . . . I’m kind of mourning it. This stage of his life has been exhausting, chasing a small creature around and making sure he doesn’t eat poison or fall down the stairs, but there is definitely some heartbreak in the knowledge that he will never want me around in the way he does now. Soon I’ll just be that embarrassing mom who told the world he used to pet me in bed.

  Unqualified Advice: Protect Your Heart

  My mom always told me to be selfish in love.

  She first said it when I was sixteen and I was falling for Chad Burke, when she saw my head spinning off my body with the dizziness of young love. She would repeat it through various stages of my life, and I truly didn’t understand what she meant for a long time.

  It was a confusing idea, to be selfish in love. Isn’t being selfish the opposite of love? Isn’t love about generosity and openness of heart?

  In hindsight, I think what my mom was saying was that relationships are an area in which you have to look out for your own interests, otherwise nobody is going to be happy. If you take care of yourself, your relatio
nship will be much more successful than if you don’t. I understand now that my mother didn’t mean don’t make dinner for somebody you love, but she meant don’t make dinner, clean up, and then do the laundry all the next day and be resentful about it. It meant let somebody do his share and show you generosity, too.

  More so than with Chad, the advice to be selfish in love came up with my college boyfriend Dave. I think my mother realized that I wasn’t all that crazy about him, but I felt like I couldn’t leave him because he needed me so much more than I needed him. Dave and I dated for four years on and off, but I never felt that swoony love for him that I did for Chad. Dave was my dorm stoner buddy. We would listen to 311 all the time and occasionally have sex. I knew that he liked me, and since I didn’t have any real friends and he felt like my friend, we dated. It was a very childish relationship. We would smoke weed and go for walks and make each other giggle, but he was not someone I ever felt like I was going to marry, and I don’t think he felt that way about me, either.

  When I went to study abroad in Italy, I told Dave that I wanted to see other people, but he did that thing where he just said no and refused to accept it. I really didn’t know how to lay down the law.

  This comes up a lot on the podcast, because oftentimes, as women, we feel the burden of the breakup. How is this person going to have clean clothes or go to the doctor or literally function in any way without me? I can relate to that concern, which sadly feels really gender-specific. By the time I got together with Chris, I just wanted a man who could make his own dentist appointment.

  I’m not trying to play the martyr. If ever I was taken for granted by men, I bear some of the blame. Getting to that point where I wanted to break up with the guy, but I also worried who would manage his life, was my own doing because I spent a lot of time embracing the caretaker role. So I think my mother told me to be selfish in love as a way of giving me permission to leave a relationship, and I think she was really onto something.

  On the podcast, I repeat my mom’s advice sometimes, but I’ve also developed my own mantra—a perhaps gentler version of my mother’s: protect your heart.

  With “protect your heart,” the underlying sentiment is similar to being selfish in love, but there’s a key difference. I say protect your heart when someone is calling in about an asshole they’re having sex with but aren’t really dating, and they’re delusional about what the level of commitment is. They want to believe there is more to the relationship than there really is, and I worry that they’re setting themselves up for heartbreak.

  I tell someone to be selfish in love when they are in a relationship that is clearly bad; I say protect your heart when you’re not in a relationship and you are telling yourself you are.

  Be selfish in love is a kinder phrase for “He’s a fucking dick; you’ve got to get out before you marry this person.” Protect your heart is a kinder phrase for “He’s using you.”

  I definitely advocate trusting someone and occasionally giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I do think that in the beginning, more than any other time, you’ve got to protect your heart. A ton of our calls come from young women who are between, say, nineteen and twenty-five, and their story is some variation of “I’m hooking up with this guy and I’m feeling confused about why he doesn’t like me as much as I like him.” They use varied language to describe this problem, which is one we’ve all had. And basically all young adults have to go through it before they become a proper human.

  There’s so much pressure right now to embody a Samantha Jones attitude. I own my body so entirely that sex is pure physical gratification. I do as I please, whenever I please. As much as I love Sex and the City, maybe we should all agree that Samantha created an urban myth. I admire the idea of sexual freedom, but it’s just not in my makeup. I wish it were, but somebody entering my body? I can’t stay emotionally uninvested there. We hear callers into the podcast talk about that idea and wanting to achieve it, and I don’t blame them, because it means feeling all powerful, but I’ve yet to talk to anyone who has actually achieved it.

  Instead, callers tell stories of people (usually men) for whom they are playing the part of the cool, down-with-anything girl, because they don’t want to be the emotional aggressor or demand “the talk.” And usually these women aren’t being honest with themselves. They are saying “I’m okay with it but . . .” when really they aren’t, or “I want to give him the time he needs, except . . .” when really they don’t. I just want to be straight with them. Don’t let yourself be used. Value yourself and value what you bring to the table. And if you’re not feeling valued, examine that, because it’s painful to have someone not treat you exactly the way you want them to. And if someone is treating you poorly at the beginning of a relationship, I don’t see a world where that behavior pattern changes very much. At least, I haven’t heard many stories of shitty dudes suddenly becoming wonderful.

  So, if someone is showing you who he is—by saying he’s not ready to commit, or by explaining the 101 reasons why, even though you are so great, he doesn’t want to introduce you to his friends—don’t ignore it. Decide if this is the kind of person you have the energy for. If you don’t want to put up with it, that’s you protecting your heart and being selfish in love. And if you decide you’re okay with it, that’s fine, but don’t come crying to Anna Faris Is Unqualified.

  I’m kidding. Please do. I promise I’ll be gentle.

  Listener Advice: More Love Mantras

  Protect your heart,” and “be selfish in love,” have served me well. But a great mantra for one person isn’t necessarily the guiding light for another. So I was curious what phrases help you guys navigate relationships. Here are your love mantras, as collected on Facebook:

  My mom always told me to never chase a man. If they want to be with you then they won’t need to be chased.

  —Claire

  My favorite professor always used the quote “Don’t let anyone rent space in your head unless they’re a good tenant.” I like changing head to heart. It’s definitely been something I’ve tried to follow with every relationship in my life.

  —Jenny

  Be responsible for your own happiness. It’s not your partner’s job to make you happy, or your job to make them happy.

  —Nicky

  I have, “You cannot save people, you can only love them” tattooed on my rib cage. I’m the type that always wants to take care of people, and it’s a reminder to me that not everyone wants to be saved.

  —Aleksa

  Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want on the front page of the newspaper. Advice from my grandma.

  —Krissy

  Grandma had three rules on relationships: don’t expect it to be easy, it’s work; if anyone starts playing games with you, leave; and all you ever have to decide is if you want to see them again—after that every other decision becomes easy.

  —Aaron

  If your partner is going to leave you, they will leave no matter what you do or change about yourself, so stop stressing, be yourself and love without fear.

  —Rebecca

  Give your partner space. Room to breathe and time to be alone for a little bit. It’s okay to not do everything together.

  —Susie

  A marriage is made up of two really good forgivers.

  —Brandi

  Don’t set your partner up for failure by expecting him or her to read your mind.

  —Megan

  The world doesn’t revolve around me. Sometimes I’ve just got to step back and remember that the people I love have their own lives. The only thing I can truly control in a relationship is me.

  —Rachel

  If I wouldn’t want it for my kids, I shouldn’t put up with it happening to me.

  —Megan

  When it’s right, it’s easy.

  —Lucy

  My husband’s mantra is don’t throw it away if you can fix it. />
  —Audrey

  Love is like a piece of glass: hold it too tight and it will shatter; hold it too loose and it will slip away.

  —Madison

  Don’t regret anything! Every choice, no matter how it ends, is a chance to learn and love. Even if love doesn’t last forever it was a moment in time. Take what you can from it, reflect, protect your heart, and stay open.

  —Stephanie