Wedding Blues

So, my best friend is getting married tomorrow. She has been super stressed (about things mostly unrelated to the wedding), and yesterday she sent me a text saying that she didn't want to do it anymore, it just wasn't worth all the stress. I've been saying that for years.

This is one of the things where, in spite of my dislike for feminists, I tend to get a little touchy. As young girls, we are taught to wish we were princesses, wish that our handsome prince will come and rescue us from whatever, wish that we will fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. As a result, most girls grow up thinking that finding a boyfriend is extremely important, sometimes more important than anything else. We're willing to break our parents rules and skip our homework and classes to be with the boy we have decided is The One, even if we're not yet old enough to drive. Happily Ever After is the goal; a handsome, wonderful, loving, doting husband and children.

I cannot think of a time in my life that I have wanted children, and the older I get, the more annoying I find the assumption that I am going to change my mind some day. Mothers are the most irritating. They will complain about how awful pregnancy is, with the aches and pains and cravings and nausea and everything else, they will complain about their little brat misbehaving or not listening or getting up too early in the morning or demanding things they can't afford... and when I ask why it is that women always say pregnancy is magical and motherhood is the best thing ever, they immediately forget everything they were complaining about and say that of course, it's a miracle, they love it! I think there's some sort of evolutionary brainwashing going on; the species would not survive if mothers did not feel this way and want more.

But more than that, the pressure to get married annoys me. At least I can understand the evolutionary reasons for women wanting children. Marriage is a social construct that I think perpetuates mostly because no one bothers to question the assumption that it is the ultimate goal. I had a baffling conversation a couple of years ago, with an ex of mine who was, at the time, still pining for me. I told him that I was perfectly happy being single, that I was content to focus on my schooling and my career. Do you know what his reply was? "Well, you'll change your mind when you meet the right guy." (I told this story to a fabulous woman, Connie Willis, and her reply amuses me to this day. She looked at me very seriously and said "No jury in the world would convict you." Priceless.)

What does that mean, anyway? That when I meet the right guy I'll forget all about the plans I have for my life? Or that I will realize that I was miserable until I met him? Either way, what the fuck?

I have met a guy that I might call the "right" one, by the way. I am not writing this because I am single and bitter about it. I got my life in order, and on a whim I went on a dating site (they're good for my ego; I'm attractive enough that I get a lot of messages), and I got a message from an intelligent, interesting young man. We've been dating for almost a year and a half now. I have not realized that I was miserable before, and I have certainly not abandoned my plans. He loves the fact that I am as ambitious as he is; if or schooling puts us on opposite sides of the country, we'll miss each other, but neither of us would ask the other to put our relationship ahead of our careers. I do intend to be with him for probably the rest of my life. I might even marry him-- largely for the tax benefits and such that come from it.

And then I look at my best friend, the girl who's getting married tomorrow. She is happy. She has spent a lot of her life trying to find a man to marry and she does want to have children. And that's fine-- she is happy. As long as people don't assume that I want that, I have no problem with it. But she is stressed to the point of getting herself sick over the wedding. If I have a wedding, I want it to be fun. Period. Maybe we'll rent out the local museum and get married under the baleful eye sockets of the T. Rex skeleton they have in the lobby. Maybe I'll wear a lab coat with my wedding dress. Maybe we'll have a TARDIS replica in the background and invite guests to come in costume. Maybe I'll have bridesmen instead of bridesmaids. Maybe I'll have bridesmaids but put them in lab coats, too. Maybe we'll serve liquid nitrogen ice cream.

But if I ever feel like planning a wedding is going to stress me out, I'm going to call it off, and just sign the papers at the court house. It's not worth it.

The Old Boys' Club

When I was born, my dad tells me, he worried about the fact that I was a girl. Not that he thought I (and my sister, for that matter) would be any less capable of achieving our dreams, but he worried that we would not have as many opportunities. That was the eighties-- things were improving, but they were certainly not all the way there yet. They aren't today, either.

My parents did not press gender issues on my sister and I. I was allowed to wear all the frilly dresses I wanted, and my sister was encouraged to do all the sports she wanted. They shopped at "Play Fair Toys," a toy store that sadly no longer exists, where everything was non-discriminatory and Barbie was nowhere to be seen. And I was always, always told that I could do anything I wanted, when I grew up. I was brilliant and capable, they told me, and nothing would stop me if I didn't want it to. As a child, it never occurred to me that girls were not as smart as boys, or not as good at science and math-- to be honest, I always thought the opposite. Boys were strong, girls were smart. Boys were good at physical things, girls were good at school things.

When I showed an interest in science, my parents encouraged that as much as they had encouraged everything else, from the frilly dresses I loved as a kid to the sports Jess played to ballet classes. They-- well, Santa-- got me a telescope and the MASSIVE Smithsonian chemistry set that you probably can't buy anymore because it's unsafe. I was put into advanced science and math classes in school, and my mom took me to a summer chemistry class for kids up at CU Boulder. And when, many years later, I decided I wanted to study physics and attend the Colorado School of Mines, they were proud. No one-- not me, not my family, not my friends-- questions whether I could do it. Of course I could-- hadn't they said all along that I could do anything I wanted?

My dad worried, though. Those old, nagging doubts about my being a girl came back full force, as I prepared to go into a field that had always been and still was very much dominated by men. It's an old boys' club, he told me. Are you sure you are ready for this? he asked. He wasn't trying to dissuade me; Dad worries, it's just what he does. He was trying to warn me. I might never have met anyone who thought I couldn't do something because I was a girl, but they were out there, and choosing to study physics and go to Mines, I was increasing the chances that I would run into them.

This is something I think about a lot; the fact that so many people have warned me about something that I have never felt the effect of. I wonder if I am merely oblivious to it, or perhaps if other people are more sensitive. I wonder if perhaps I was always so far ahead of everyone else that it didn't matter. (Yes, I have a healthy ego. It's also not an unreasonable thing for me to wonder.) If I had been less advanced, would people have discouraged me because of my gender? Or was I just incredibly lucky, to have led a life where such things never touched me?

Every year, the American Physical Society (a professional organization for physicists and people interested in physics) sponsors a Convention for Undergraduate Women in Physics, on about half a dozen campuses around the country. This year, in January, several of our students went, and they offered to have Mines be one of the host campuses next year. One of the really interesting things about this convention is that it is organized almost entirely by students; they were asking for volunteers to help out. So I signed up; I'm on four committees. Not only is this something that I think is a really good idea, something that I care a lot about, it's also something that will look really, really good on a resume.

Next year is going to be a really busy year...