ALSO BY LORI GOTTLIEB
Stick Figure: A Diary of My Former Self
Inside the Cult of Kibu: And Other Tales of the Millennial Gold Rush
by Lori Gottlieb and Jesse Jacobs
I Love You, Nice to Meet You
by Lori Gottlieb and Kevin Bleyer
DUTTON
Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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Published by Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First printing, February Copyright © 2010 by Lori Gottlieb
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REGISTERED TRADEMARK˿MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA Gottlieb, Lori.
Marry him: the case for settling for Mr. Good Enough / by Lori Gottlieb.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-1-101-18520-9
1. Women—Psychology. 2. Man-woman relationships—United States 3. Mate selection—United States. I. Title.
HQ1206.G718 2010
646.7’7082—dc22 2009032824
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For my husband, whoever you are.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
PART ONE - How Did We Get Here?
Chapter 1 - The Dating Trenches
Chapter 2 - The Romantic Comedy That Predicted My Future
Chapter 3 - How Feminism Fucked Up My Love Life
Chapter 4 - Speed Dating Disaster
PART TWO - From Fantasy to Reality
Chapter 5 - Older, and Wanting to Be Wiser
Chapter 6 - $3,500 for Love
Chapter 7 - The What Versus the Why
Chapter 8 - Mondays with Evan
Chapter 9 - It’s Not Him, It’s You
PART THREE - Making Smarter Choices
Chapter 10 - Don’t Be Picky, Be Happy
Chapter 11 - Mondays with Evan
Chapter 12 - The Men Who Got Away
Chapter 13 - Pulling Another Sheldon
Chapter 14 - Mondays with Evan
Chapter 15 - What First Dates Really Tell Us
Chapter 16 - Are Women Pickier Than Men?
PART FOUR - What Really Matters
Chapter 17 - Mondays with Evan
Chapter 18 - The Business of Love
Chapter 19 - Love at Twenty-seventh Sight
Chapter 20 - Mondays with Evan
Chapter 21 - Dump the List, Not the Guy
PART FIVE - Putting It All Together
Chapter 22 - The Good Enough Marriage
Chapter 23 - A Visit with the Rabbi
Chapter 24 - Claire’s Story—Getting Over Myself
Chapter 25 - Alexandra’s Story—Mr. Right in Front of Me
Chapter 26 - Hilary’s Story—Finding What I Needed
Chapter 27 - My Story—A Dating Public Service Announcement
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
The events and facts presented in this book are true and based upon my real-life experiences and research. Names and personal details of some of my friends and others who appear in the book have been changed or, in a few instances, composites created either at the individual’s request or out of my concern for their privacy.
You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
—Widely attributed to Dr. Seuss
Prologue
The Husband Store
A NEW STORE HAS OPENED. A HUBAND STORE! THERE’S A SIGN AT THE ENTRANCE: YOU MAY VISIT THE HUSBAND STORE ONLY ONCE. THERE ARE SIX FLOORS, AND THE VALUE OF THE PRODUCTS INCREASE ON EACH SUCCESSIVE FLOOR. THE SHOPPER CAN CHOOSE ANY ITEM FROM A PARTICULAR FLOOR, OR GO UP TO SHOP ON THE NEXT FLOOR, BUT SHE CANNOT GO BACK DOWN EXCEPT TO EXIT THE BUILDING.
So, a woman goes into the store. On the first floor the sign on the door reads: FLOOR I—MEN WHO HAVE GOOD JOBS.
“That’s nice,” she thinks, “but I want more.” So she continues upward, where the sign reads: FLOOR 2—MEN WHO HAVE GOOD JOBS AND LOVE KIDS.
She’s intrigued, but continues to the third floor, where the sign reads: FLOOR 3—MEN WHO HAVE GOOD JOBS, LOVE KIDS, AND ARE EXTREMELY HANDSOME.
“Wow,” she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
FLOOR 4—MEN WHO HAVE GOOD JOBS, LOVE KIDS, ARE EXTREMELY HANDSOME, AND HELP EQUALLY WITH THE HOUSEWORK.
“It can’t get better than this!” she exclaims. But then a voice inside her asks, “Or can it?” She goes up and reads the sign.
FLOOR 5—MEN WHO HAVE GOOD JOBS, LOVE KIDS, ARE EXTREMELY HANDSOME, HELP EQUALLY WITH THE HOUSEWORK, AND HAVE A GREAT SENSE OF HUMOR.
Having found what she’s looking for, she’s tempted to stay, but something propels her to the sixth floor, where the sign reads: FLOOR 6—YOU ARE VISITOR 42,2I5,602 TO THIS FLOOR. THERE ARE NO MEN ON THIS FLOOR. THIS FLOOR ONLY EXISTS TO PROVE THAT WOMEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO PLEASE. THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT THE HUSBAND STORE.
PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store’s owner opened a Wife Store right across the street.
The first floor has wives who Love Sex.
The second floor has wives who Love Sex and Are Kind.
The third floor has wives who Love Sex, Are Kind, and Like Sports.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth floors have never been visited.
—My version of an old joke about choosing a husband
• Intelligent
• Kind
• Extremely funny
• Curious
• Loves kids
• Financially stable
• Emotionally stable
• Sexy
• Romantic
• Passionate
• Compassionate
• Irreverent
• Intuitive
• Generous
• Same religion but not too religious
• Optimistic but not naive
• Ambitious but not a workaholic
• Talented but humble
• Warm but not clingy
• Grounded but not boring
• Soulful but not new-agey
• Vulnerable but not weak
• Quirky but not weird
• Free-spirited but responsible
• Charismatic but genuine
• Strong but sensitive
• Athletic but not a sports nut
• Open-minded but has conviction
• Decisive but not bossy
• Mature but not old
• Creative but not an artist
• Supportive of my dreams and goals
• Has a sense of wonderment about the world
• Is close to my age (shares my cultural references)
• Good listener and communicator
• Flexible and can compromise
• Sophisticated—well-educated, well-traveled, has been around
• Over 5’10” but under 6’0”
• Has a full head of hair (wavy and dark would be nice—no blonds)
• Has shared political views
• Has shared values
• Is not into sci-fi or comic books
• Has good taste/sense of aesthetics
• Health-conscious and physically fit
• Cares about the community at large
• Cares about animals
• Competent
• Handy around the house
• Cooks
• Likes the outdoors (hiking, biking, Rollerblading)
• Likes my friends (and I like his)
• Not moody
• Trustworthy
• Is a team player
• Is literary and enjoys wordplay
• Is math- or science-oriented
• Likes discussing (but not arguing about) politics and world events
• Stylish
• Stimulating
• Not a slob—respectful of our living space
• Is madly in love with me
Actually, this isn’t my current list. This is what I started off with when I sat down to write this book. I’d never made a “list” before, but a married friend put me up to it. I told her I didn’t have a list, and she insisted I did, even if it only existed in my head.
“I can’t quantify what I’m looking for,” I said. “I always just fell in love.”
But she was right: It took me all of three minutes to give a detailed description of my ideal guy. Even if I’d never written a list, I clearly kept a mental file. Then she took it a step further: Hone down the list to make it more realistic.
I gave it a try. I crossed off some easy items—he doesn’t have to know how to cook (besides, he could always learn); if he’s 5’7” instead of 5’10”, I could live with that. But even as I eliminated some qualities, I found it hard to get rid of most entirely. Maybe I could compromise on “funny,” but where do you draw the line between a guy whose banter makes your heart race and one whose sense of humor merely makes you smile? On a sliding scale, how much passion would he need to be considered “passionate”?
There were so many variables. In the past, I dated a freelance artist, only to say that next time I wanted someone financially stable. Then I dated a doctor, but we didn’t connect creatively. Finding a financially stable artist or a doctor who wrote novels in his spare time wasn’t impossible—but pretty rare. And combine that with all the other characteristics I wanted, not to mention “chemistry,” and suddenly the mystery of why I was still single was solved.
Maybe the man I was looking for on paper simply didn’t exist. And maybe, as my friend suggested, some of these qualities weren’t that important when it came to a happy marriage anyway.
Yikes. What if she was right? Had I overlooked men who might have turned out to be great husbands because I was drawn to an instant spark and a checklist instead of a solid life partner?
Of course, I wasn’t completely clueless. By the time I hit 30, I knew that nobody was perfect (including me) and that whoever I married would be a flawed human being like the rest of us. I wasn’t expecting perfection so much as intense connection. I also knew that none of that heady first-blush excitement guaranteed everlasting love, but I felt that without this initial launching pad, romance would never get off the ground. As far as I was concerned, there was no point in going on a second date if there wasn’t a strong attraction on the first.
So, at least in the beginning of a relationship, I expected to be dazzled (even if that meant being so distracted by my object of affection that I nearly lost my job and risked my very livelihood). I expected to “just know” that he was The One (even if it often happened that a year later, I’d “just know” that I wanted to break up). I expected to feel some sort of divine connection (even if that meant being in a constant state of nausea and having an obsessive need to check my voice mail every thirty minutes). This was what “falling in love” felt like, right?
Meanwhile, my unconscious husband-shopping list grew even longer. Like a lot of women, the older I got, the more things I wanted in a guy, because while life experience taught me what I didn’t want in a relationship, it also gave me a better sense of what I did want. So the thinking would go: The last guy wasn’t X, so next time I want X ... plus all the things I had on my list before. Basically, my Husband Store went from a six-story building to the world’s tallest skyscraper. And I didn’t think I was alone.
Could this be one reason that in 1975, almost 90 percent of women in the United States were married by age 30 but in 2004, only a little more than half were? Or why the percentages of never-married women in every age group studied by the U.S. Census Bureau (from 25 to 44) more than doubled between 1970 and 2006?
I wanted to find out.
A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE STORY
This book is a love story. It’s not mine, exactly, but it could be yours.
It all started with a dinner I had with my editor at the Atlantic.
I was 39 years old, a journalist and single mother with a toddler, and I was grumbling about a date I’d had the night before with a lisping 45-year-old lawyer who chewed with his mouth open and talked nonstop for three hours about his ex-wife but failed to ask a single question about me. I didn’t know if I had it in me to go on another date. Ever. I was so tired of having to talk to strangers over plates of pasta when all I wanted was to hang out in sweatpants with my husband on a Saturday night, like my married friends did.
How had this become my life?
Just two years earlier, I’d written “The XY Files” for the Atlantic, where I told the story of my decision, at age 37, to have a baby on my own. Obviously, this wasn’t my childhood dream, but neither was marrying someone who wasn’t The One—and so far I didn’t think I’d found him. I wanted to have a baby while I still could, so instead of signing up with another online dating site, I registered with an online sperm donor site. Soon I found myself pregnant and still hopeful that I’d meet Mr. Right. My plan was to have a baby first, find “true love” later. At the time, I felt empowered
and even wrote in the pages of the magazine that what I was doing seemed somewhat romantic.
Well . . . hahahahahahaha!
Now, at dinner with my editor, I couldn’t stop laughing. Of course, I was ecstatically in love with my child, but let’s face it: Things weren’t so romantic over in the Gottlieb household. Like my married friends with small children, I was sleep-deprived, cranky, and overwhelmed, but unlike them, I was doing it all alone. Sure, sometimes they complained about their husbands and, at first, I felt proud of my decision not to end up like them—in what seemed like less-than-ideal marriages, with less-than-ideal spouses. But it didn’t take long before I realized that none of them would trade places with me for a second. In fact, despite their complaints, they actually were really happy—and in many cases, happier than they’d ever been. All those things that seemed so important when they were dating now had little relevance to their lives. Instead, the idea of choosing to run a household together—as unglamorous and challenging and mundane as that was—seemed to be the ultimate act of “true love.” Why hadn’t I looked at marriage that way five years ago?
“If I knew then what I know now,” I told my editor, “I would have approached dating differently.” But how could I have known?
As a single 42-year-old friend put it, for many women it’s a Catch-22. “If I’d settled at thirty-nine,” she said, “I always would have had the fantasy that something better exists out there. Now I know better. Either way, I was screwed.”
I remember being surprised that my friend, a smart and attractive producer, was basically saying she should have settled. But she explained that I had it all wrong. She didn’t mean resigning herself to a life of quiet misery with a man she cared little about. She meant opening herself up to a fulfilling life with a great guy who might not have possessed every quality on her checklist. In her thirties, she told me, she used to consider “settling” to mean anything less than her ideal guy, but now, in her forties, she’d come to realize that she’d been confusing “settling” with “compromising.”
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