Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

It�s all in the wrist.

Thursday, Mar. 9, 2006
11:10 a.m.
Yesterday my annoying student let it slip that she hasn�t been practising singing much because her third-year clarinet recital is coming up on Sunday. I said, �That�s great, I�ll be there!� and she responded, �Don�t you have to be there?� I asked her why she said that and she blurted, �Because your husband is one of my jurors.� I burst out laughing and said to her, �Do you think I go everywhere he goes, that we�re joined at the hip?� I don�t think she was expecting me to be so vehement about it, but this morning, waiting for the hair dye to develop in my quickly-graying locks, I remembered this exchange and thought it was kind of funny.

Once a man and a woman (or a man and a man or a woman and a woman) tie the marital knot, suddenly they seem to lose all value as individuals. Even my mother-in-law�s analogy of two horses pulling a cart takes this tack, that the horses must always be joined in the traces, pulling in the same direction, or the cart will not continue moving forward and might actually fall apart. I agree that a husband and wife (or any of the earlier-stated combinations) have to work as a team to keep their marriage from failing--and it is not an easy task, says I who have been at it for almost 24 years now--but I disagree with the loss of individuality that the joining of bank accounts seems to engender.

In many marriage ceremonies I have attended, the bride and groom each light a candle which they then use to ignite a third wick from the flames of their respective tapers, and then blow out the original candles following the successful lighting of this representation of their continued life as one, as opposed to two separate individuals. I�m sorry, but this disturbs me a lot. Just because I chose to love and live with one person for the rest of my life, to have children with him, to co-own property and to have a joint bank account, it does not mean that I have lost any of my own distinctiveness, nor that I have given up my ability to think separately and make decisions on my own. It doesn�t mean that I suddenly developed a taste for mushrooms and brussels sprouts, or that my partner no longer turns on the television in shared hotel rooms. And it definitely does not mean that we agree on everything.

When Hubby and I were first engaged, a friend of mine told me of an overheard conversation in the music library between two people who knew both of us and were discussing the prognosis of our relationship. He (or she, I don�t remember which anymore) queried, �Will she become Mrs. Hubby, or will he become Mr. Elgan?� You see, my husband and I both have extremely strong personalities. We argue a lot (just ask my kids) about practically everything. In a less solid relationship, the partners would have gone their separate ways a long time ago, but it is because we are so strongly committed to each other and the relationship itself that we have not parted company.

I think my husband would like a more acquiescent wife, one who gives into him without an argument, who meekly says, �Yes, dear,� on appropriate occasions, who does his bidding without question and who is always in a good mood. I would like a husband who fits that description as well, one who doesn�t bug me about my mood swings, who understands that I can�t control the hormonal surges that render me a grizzly bear at times and a sex kitten at others, and who realizes that my life is not about him all the time.

Yet, even with all these basic incompatibilities, I can�t imagine growing old with anyone else. However, this doesn�t mean that I have submerged my individuality in the sea of conjugal bliss. Not at all. I am just as annoyingly independent as I was when we wed, and he hasn�t changed either. I have no intention of giving up what makes me �me�, in the same way that I never even considered changing my last name.

Our plumber one day, after repairing the ballcock on the toilet, was on his way out, and he said, �Goodbye, Mrs. Hubby.� I said, �That�s not my name.� He responded, �But that�s who you are,� and I answered, �No, that�s what I am, not who I am.�

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