On Living with the Same Man for 14 Years

I've been watching a lot of Romantic Comedies lately. "A lot" meaning two. That's a lot for me. It's not my genre of choice and after watching those two, my opinion is perhaps even more sure than before. This means that next year I will only watch ONE RoCo.

I do get a sort of detached pleasure from watching Hollywood ideas of love and romance and comparing it to my own experience. And I like laughing at how manipulative they are.

Schmaltzy Movie #1: The Holiday. A lovely little film in which a cold, ambitious, self-absorbed woman goes to a cute English cottage alone, in stumbles a charming, very smoldery English man complete with lovely accent and much hanky panky ensues. Our willingness to accept this liaison corresponds directly with the considerable attractiveness of the two involved, and the assurance that this is kind of thing is most certainly out of the ordinary.

In scene two we find out that smoldery man is actually a devoted single dad to two darling little girls complete with lacy tent, even better, he's a widower, not a divorcee, who cries. Awww!

Here's the thing I found interesting. If we had known he was actually a father before sleeping with a strange woman in a drunken stupor, all the women would have booed and hissed and thrown rotten vegetables at the screen. Hmm, says I.

Schmaltzy Movie #2: The Proposal. A not so lovely little film in which a cold, ambitious, self-absorbed woman fakes an engagement to her charming, very smoldery nicety-nice assistant who also just happens to be secretly uber-wealthy. He, of course, is able to see past all of her issues, selfishness, dishonesty, and general bitterness, and fall desperately love with her anyway.

These are the most barfingest of plots. Very handsome, charming, wealthy, girly man falls in love with angry, ahem, witch with issues, who's only redeeming quality is her flat stomach. And for this, we all wish we could be her. What does this really tell women? Don't even get me started on Twilight.

I know a lot of ladies watch movies like these with their husbands to feel romantic, or get in the mood, or whatever. That's okay. These movies help my marriage, too. Primarily, because I am so grateful not to be deluded into believing that those are the definitions of love. That that tripe is what romance looks like. I am always more grateful for the love of my life and the marriage we share after seeing a cheap Hollywood counterfeit. It is so very different from the real, unselfish, devoted, passionate, absolutely fulfilling relationship we have shared these past 14 years, and I'm grateful for it.

It's a good anniversary.