Living Together?
Posted: January 8th, 2012 | Author: Molly Monet | Filed under: dating stories, single life | Tags: being alone, new boyfriend | 9 Comments »
An article came out in today’s New York Times from a woman, Dominique Browning, who said that she loved living alone but noticed that men didn’t, and she postulated her own theories as to why (women like to nest, men are more concerned with danger and want someone to watch their backs). I’m never fond of gender generalizations, but the article did intrigue me because Jon and I have been discussing the idea of moving in together, and I am wondering how I will like cohabitation again.
Now before you all start saying that it is too soon for us to be considering this idea, I will agree that it is. That is the simple answer. Yet blog pieces are not born from simple answers. Furthermore, judging by the conversation that is taking place on my Facebook wall, this is an issue that impacts many of us middle-aged women and men, single or divorced.
Just a year or so ago, I was proclaiming the joys of living alone, and cheekily said that any man who wanted to live with me had better bring his own Airstream to park out back. Yet my circumstances have changed. Now I am living in a more expensive town, the Boston area, where living alone takes a much larger financial toll. In fact, I noticed at a party the other night that most single people here have roommates, and one young man told me stories of how his parents took in boarders as soon as his brother went to college. It got me thinking about whether or not I should consider this option.
I discussed this with a recent divorcee who took in renters to help him make his house payments. He proclaimed that living with a roommate is a lot easier than living with a romantic partner. However, my own history doesn’t necessarily prove that. In my twenties, I had a series of crazy roommates. One of them, in San Francisco, was a white woman who had recently been initiated into the Afro-Caribbean practice of santería. She asked us to leave the house periodically so that she could do her rituals, and even threatened the wrath of the gods (the orishas, for those in the know) on us because my roommate’s boyfriend drank some rum from one of her many altars. Another turned out to be a cocaine addict and was understandably erratic and failed to pay the rent on time. My ex was a wonderful respite from my rental trials and tribulations, and in the early years, I said that he was the best roommate that I ever had. Unfortunately, as things got tense between us in the later years, that was no longer the case.
My best non-romantic roommate experience was a sweet activist named Karen, with whom I shared a house in Berkeley. My only complaint was that her boyfriend woke me up in the mornings with the tap, tap, tap of his razor on the sink as he shaved in the bathroom right next to my bedroom. I worked from home at the time, and she worked afternoons and evenings and often spent the night elsewhere, so I was the main person in the house. Perhaps that is the key to cohabitation for me? Jon spends very little time in his own apartment, and it would seem that he might be same if he lived here with me. He works about an hour away, travels a lot for work, often stays late at his office, and likes to take his son on weekend trips when he has him. In a lot of ways, my current routine with my kids would be untouched.
When I told one of my married friends about our nightly ritual of climbing into my bed and reading aloud, followed by cuddling and falling asleep together, she said that she would be loath to allow a man to interfere with that.
Of course, this weekend is the first weekend that I have been alone in weeks. Fittingly, it is the first time I have had to even consider how I feel about living alone. Jon invited me to join him on his ski weekend in Vermont, but I opted to stay in Boston and spend some needed time in my apartment. Like Browning, I enjoyed spreading out on my bed with my books and stuff without a care for accommodating another body. I blissfully ate dinner in bed, played Words With Friends online, read my novel that I haven’t cracked open since my last solo weekend, and watched a movie ‘til midnight. It was wonderfully relaxing, yet I couldn’t help but notice a pang of solitude when I woke up this morning and contemplated my day. I found myself ticking off the number of days since I had seen Jon (six, after spending four straight days together with my family in California) and wishing he weren’t so busy (he heads out on a business trip tomorrow).
So I imagine that my conflicting needs for space and companionship, for time alone and time together, will continue. It’s a delicate balance, and there will probably be many days like today when the scales tip too far in one direction. My parting thoughts come from the novel that I was reading last night, called Falling Together about a single mom who lives with her adult brother and young daughter: “You like your little pockets of solitude, but you’re not made for being alone for long. There were people who could live on their own and be happy, and then there were people who needed the falling together, the daily work of giving and taking and talk and touch.” I think I like the talking and the touch too much to live alone forever.
Related posts:
- Living Well
- The Road I Chose to Travel
- Who is in Your Bed?
- What I Do When I’m Lonely
- I Can be Alone, Yeah
I, like the rest of your readership, have attentively followed your story. It has been sad (something ends), inspirational (you two get along) and hopeful (you are finding a new life). Reading the stories of others can give me ideas about my own life. Okay, the polka dot tie with a striped shirt was a bad idea.
A little over a year ago, as a single man, in a fit of thrill-seeking macho bravado, I did a tandem parachute jump. From the beginning in getting suited up all way through the plane ride to the proper altitude (13,500 feet!), I was told over and over again, I could back out at any time; all I had to do was signal I wanted out. However, after watching the jump lights go from red to yellow to green and I stepped out for the first time in my life from a plane that was not parked on the tarmac, I realized I was committed to seeing this through to the end; there was no other way out.
As you point out, there are things to be lost with a partnership; you can’t lay your stuff out on the empty side of the bed. But there are some extraordinary, wonderful things to be gained in a partnership. Nevertheless, like many in your readership, having gone through one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, I know, as you lay out in your own blog posting, I will have a great deal of soul searching and weighing of pros and cons to do. I know for certain that I am going to think twice, no, I’m going to think three, four, maybe five times before I strap on a parachute again.
Molly, I sincerely wish you all the best in your world. I’m reading.
Oh thanks for the insightful comment and dedicated readership, Billy! I find myself both wanting to be mindful of my past mistakes and difficulties and to be open to love as well. I’m finding that with Jon, sometimes my past experiences make me have a gut reaction of wanting to run away, but I’m trying to observe those reactions and admit that they are based on past information, not present.
Molly (remember, this comes from one of Jon’s best friends) — until he demonstrates a more committed regard for the habitability of his immediate environment, I keep him in his own cage!
Dave- He has already promised that he will clean up if he lives with me. And when I have asked him to help clean up after dinner and whatnot, he always does. But I do have to agree with you that it does give me pause, especially because he keeps saying that he will clean his apartment and never does. Is he a man who can keep his word?
I love that you are questioning yourself about whether the the give of partnerships is worth the ‘takes.’ For me, coming from a very challenging marriage to a very peaceful independence, it seemed not. However, after much time, I was able to admit that while I may not need a partner, I do want one.
I will always need those pockets of solitude – always – but a true partner will respect that, facilitate and even promote that. I’m excited about the thought of engaging intimately with another human. Knowing myself and and my needs will help me choose wisely.
Best wishes as you make your own decisions. For me co-habitation would only work within the security of marriage. . . so it ups the ante quite a bit!
Hey Molly,
I like your blog, it is very refreshing. Thanks for your openness, it is thought-provoking.
I am a bit baffled, though, by that NYT article you mention. My personal experience is just the other way round. The 2 divorced men I know, including myself, love living alone. The 3 women I met in the last while would rather live together with someone. As a two-time divorcee I am not so convinced anymore that living together is the right lifestyle for me. I think I prefer enjoying my freedom. A housemate is about as much as I can tolerate currently.
Well, people are different. I guess it all depends on whom we meet. If one feels it is the right person, it is always worth a try. May be I should try to get in contact with that lady who wrote the NYT article :-)
I hope it works out the second time around for you.
Best
Karl
Thanks, Karl for your kind words. I agree that the gender breakdown isn’t quite right in that article but I did resonate with some of her descriptions of loving her independence. Some of us need space, some of us need togetherness. My ex and I were always dying to have more space from each other and now he lives in a tiny apartment with his girlfriend. Every relationship is different too (something that us divorcees are smart to remember.) Good luck to you too.
“I think I like the talking and the touch too much to live alone forever.”
Couldn’t have said it better. Thanks Molly!
Sounds like you are on the right track in sorting this all out in your mind. I am sure youwill do the right thing for you and your kids.
[...] I said that we should think about it, and, as I often do when I am trying to figure something out, I blogged about it. I tried to imagine what our life might be like together. On Monday, after we hadn’t seen each [...]