Family

Out with the old and out with the new

Feminism of every stripe has failed. It's time for a gender equality movement.

  • more
    • All Share Services

Out with the old and out with the new

The 20th century was, among other things, the century of feminism. For the first time in history, the belief that women have the same rights and the same worth as men is not the vision of a few radicals but the cultural norm in a large proportion of human societies. In the United States, women’s gains have been, in many ways, especially impressive. Yet one would have to be a wild-eyed optimist to insist that the gender revolution of the past 30 years has been an unqualified success.

“Modern feminism, until recently at least,” the late social critic Christopher Lasch wrote in a 1993 essay, “promised not to intensify sexual warfare but to bring about a new era of sexual peace in which women and men could meet each other as equals, not as antagonists.” If so, its promise certainly hasn’t been fulfilled. Harmony between the sexes sometimes seems more elusive than ever. It’s no accident that a perennial bestseller of the 1990s was a book built on the concept that the problems between men and women stem from forgetting that we’re creatures from different planets.

The unabashedly retro vision of “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” — men want achievement and sex, women want relationships and love — is echoed on a more sophisticated level by neo-traditionalists like Danielle Crittenden (“What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us”) and Wendy Shalit (“A Return to Modesty”), who deplore the damage allegedly wrought by the feminist denial of woman’s essential difference from man and propose a slightly updated version of old-fashioned femininity as the path to happiness.

But what about those of us who believe that the answer is to go forward, not back? Can feminism serve as our compass, and what goals should it be pursuing? The law no longer gives men any privileges; and, while it would be Pollyannaish to assert that women have reached fully equal economic opportunities, many leading feminists — such as University of Southern California law professor Susan Estrich — now acknowledge that disparities in pay and advancement are due at least partly to women’s personal choices about work and family.

As for sexist cultural attitudes, they form a tangled web in which women are as implicated as men (even liberated and successful women often regard status and high earnings as essential criteria of eligibility in a mate), and male and female disadvantages are profoundly intertwined.

Women, for the most part, are the ones who must wrestle with hard decisions about balancing work and family. Men, for the most part, have much less freedom to cut down on work and spend more time with their children, or trade a lucrative job for a more fulfilling one. Today, the social pressure on fathers to bring home a paycheck is considerably stronger than the pressure on mothers to be at home.

Faced with these complexities, feminism has moved further and further away from its dictionary definition of belief in the equality of the sexes. Some feminists now declare that equality is a failure if women must give up their “female values” to succeed — in the process reverting to hoary cliches of male and female. Others, loath to concede victory, cling to exaggerated or mythical claims of oppression. They insist, for instance, that women earn 75 cents to a man’s dollar “for the same work,” even though economists like Harvard University’s Claudia Goldin readily concede that the pay gap largely reflects differences in occupation, skills and length of employment, and even though the gap is rapidly closing for young women whose career patterns are more similar to men’s. They also claim that schools are rife with anti-female bias (when 55 percent of college degrees are obtained by women).

No less disturbingly, the women’s movement often seems to have shifted from the goal of equal treatment to one of female advantage. After helping bring down the maternal custody presumption in an effort to eliminate discriminatory laws in the 1970s, the movement turned increasingly hostile to fathers’ claims of equality (at least when those claims conflict with those of mothers and not those of employers stingy with paternity leave).

Some feminists, such as psychologist Phyllis Chesler, openly invoke the biological superiority of mother love; others, including the National Organization for Women, dress up the defense of maternal privilege in equal-rights garb, portraying women as victims of bias. A 1999 NOW resolution asserts that “women lose custody of their children despite being good mothers [and] despite a lack of involvement of the father with the children” — which may occasionally happen but is hardly a pattern. Invariably, too, feminists flock to the side of women in high-profile custody fights, particularly when the demands of the mother’s career become an issue. They seem to forget that a father, regardless of the demands of his job, would lose his children in a custody battle simply as a matter of course.

The tension between individual rights and sisterhood has probably always existed in feminism. But back when women’s civil rights were routinely denied or severely abridged, the question, “Do we champion fairness or do we champion women?” may have seemed moot. Today, it would be hard to argue with a straight face that taking the woman’s side is always synonymous with being for justice.

In 30 years, for example, rape victims’ advocacy has gone from challenging clearly unjust practices (such as jury instructions that “unchaste character” could be held against the woman’s credibility) to insisting that if a woman feels raped, the man must be guilty. As legal scholar Catharine MacKinnon put it, “Feminism is built on believing women’s accounts of sexual use and abuse by men.”

The principle of solidarity with women, which becomes morally dubious when it places gender above fairness to individuals, is compounded by the idea that the personal is political. To some extent, inasmuch as feminism sought to change relations between the sexes, it inevitably subjected the personal sphere to political analysis. There was a time when it targeted laws that gave men authority over women; later, it challenged the social norms dictating a woman’s place — the belief that she should subordinate any personal ambition to her husband’s and defer to him on important decisions, or that keeping house was her job. This critique did not necessarily presume male malevolence or female innocence. Even Betty Friedan, in “The Feminine Mystique,” saw middle-class men less as oppressors than as victims of housewives obsessed with domestic perfection and social status.

Today’s feminism tends to focus on bad things men do to women, including misdeeds that, long before the widespread acceptance of women’s equality, were generally viewed in the West as reprehensible violations of moral and social norms: rape, battering, sexual coercion of employees. Yes, it is true that the outrage at such acts often did not translate into social sanctions, and often did not preclude sexist biases against victims; the women’s movement certainly deserves credit for bringing these problems to center stage.

However, framing the issues in terms of a male “war against women” had some unfortunate consequences — notably, a much-deplored tendency to depict women as perpetual victims and men as villains. Women’s ill-treatment of men is either obliterated or excused, resulting in a quasi-Victorian sentimental insistence on female virtue and innocence.

Often, the same people who bristle at the notion that women may be less sexual or less aggressive than men insist that unwelcome sexuality in the workplace is always a male imposition on women and indignantly reject any suggestion that women may sometimes be the aggressors in domestic combat.

Causes such as those that protest violence against women are less an appeal for respect for women as human beings equal in stature to men (who are, after all, the primary victims of male violence) than demands that we feel sympathy for women as damsels-in-distress.

The preoccupation with women’s injuries at the hands of men also politicizes less egregious, more complex offenses. The 1999 book “Rebels in White Gloves” by Miriam Horn, a portrait of the Wellesley College Class of ’69, tells the story of how U.S. Attorney Kris Olson Rogers came to see her bad (but non-violent) marriage as abusive. Rogers had her epiphany when, soon after her divorce, she read materials from a battered women’s shelter which defined abusive behavior as ranging from lies and infidelity to “not giving support, attention, and compliments.”

As a consciousness-raising exercise, Rogers read the checklist at a seminar for women lawyers and asked how many had experienced such treatment from spouses or partners. About 80 percent raised their hands. Surely, if the same list were read to a group of men — or lesbians — a similar forest of hands would go up.

While Horn wonders if this politicization of the personal turns “the confused misdemeanors inevitable in a relationship into stark crimes,” she concludes that it is ultimately a good thing, empowering women to resolve their private problems through “public solidarity.”

But actually, this kind of “empowerment” often seems to reduce feminism to a vehicle for women to vent and validate their frustrations with men — frustrations which have less to do with gender politics or Mars-Venus differences than with tensions inherent in intimate relationships — and to blame their personal unhappiness on the patriarchy.

Meanwhile, conservative traditionalists have long tried to use feminist claims of female misery as evidence that the pursuit of equality was a tragic mistake. While the neo-traditionalists often claim that the path they are proposing combines the best of women’s new roles with the best of age-old wisdom about men and women, their actual prescriptions are heavy on the age-old, while the new often seems to be a mere cosmetic dusting.

Thus, Crittenden’s proposed solution to women’s work-and-family woes is vintage 1950s: Yes, women should be able to fulfil their talents outside the home but it’s up to them to build their working lives around the family — which is their primary responsibility, as breadwinning is the man’s. (“What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us” shrugs off child care by fathers as an unrealistic option for most women; in a March 1999 article in the Canadian daily National Post, Crittenden goes further and mocks the nurturing dad as a wimp no real woman would want in her bed.) Nastily censorious toward working mothers, Crittenden has even chided Elizabeth Dole for having the temerity to announce, during the 1996 campaign, that she would return to her post at the Red Cross if Bob Dole became president.

Shalit, meanwhile, yearns openly for paternalistic norms that curtailed women’s freedom but protected them from bad men and their own bad judgment. It is no accident that she repeatedly blurs the lines between girl children (who do need the protection of adults — as do boys) and grown young women. While Shalit has asserted that her vision of feminine modesty is in no way incompatible with careers, she makes it clear that in her view, encouraging women to be assertive and independent, just like encouraging them to be casual about sex, is a way of telling them to “stop being a woman.”

In many strange ways, modern feminism and modern traditionalism overlap. Both oppose equal treatment regardless of gender: the neo-feminists want special protections on the grounds of women’s oppressed and powerless state, the traditionalists on the grounds of women’s innate vulnerabilities and differences from men.

Both camps are preoccupied with men’s mistreatment of women. In the conservative version of the personal-as-political, the liberalization of social and sexual mores has lifted the constraints that held male misconduct in check: Single women, duped into making themselves sexually available, are used and dumped at every turn, and those lucky enough to get married are still in constant danger of being dumped because divorce has been made easy. Men, in this scheme of things, have virtually no interest in love, marriage or children unless women rope them into commitment by withholding sex and unless there is societal pressure on them to get and stay married. They’ll act like pigs if given half a chance, and they’ve been given just such a chance by feminism and the sexual revolution.

In fact, when it comes to male-bashing and preoccupation with female victimhood, some of the new traditionalists can hold a candle to the most radical of feminists. Victim feminism and victim anti-feminism achieve perfect convergence in “A Return to Modesty.” In Shalit’s hands, Victorian pieties about womanhood mix freely with feminist hyperbole about a “misogynist culture” in which women and girls face constant abuse, violence and degradation (except that she blames this on the loss of patriarchal protections, rather than the patriarchy).

Indeed, echoing the feelings-over-facts attitude for which conservatives have rightly derided the cultural left, Shalit suggests that false charges of victimization and statistics which inflate female misery matter less than the greater truth: A lot of young women are “very unhappy.”

While conservatives often deplore feminism’s polarizing influence and its view of relations between the sexes as a power struggle, neo-traditionalist gender politics are at bottom profoundly adversarial. The same writers who lament the loss of romance in our sexually liberated world often go on to discuss sex in terms of “bargaining power” and “market conditions” (as in “Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free”).

To some women, the grim picture of a post-feminist sexual battlefield peopled by uncommitted men and exploited women may ring true, just as feminist claims of ubiquitous patriarchal atrocities will ring true to others. Reality, though, is considerably more complicated. Most men marry in spite of all the free milk, and the singles scene can be cruel to both sexes. Divorce is not primarily a matter of irresponsible men walking out on wives and children; two-thirds of the time, it’s women who decide to leave, usually not because of adultery or abuse but because of dissatisfaction with the quality of the marriage.

There may well be important differences between women and men, and it may well be that men are biologically more predisposed to enjoy no-strings sex. But it hardly means that, as Crittenden suggests, men and women differ radically in their need for marriage, children and work.

At the dawn of the millennium, things aren’t as bad as either feminists or neo-traditionalists claim. Most women and men try, however imperfectly, to find a balance between the modern and the traditional. Yet we can do better.

Maybe, at least in the context of Western industrial democracies, what we need at this stage is not a women’s movement at all but a gender equality movement — one clearly committed to fairness and equity for individuals regardless of sex, not just to the empowerment or betterment of women. Such a movement — which would probably be loosely organized and focused on grass-roots cultural change more than top-down policy making — should not aim for 50-50 parity in every sphere.

While conservatives are prone to exaggerating biological sex differences, it seems likely that all human abilities and preferences are not distributed evenly between the sexes. We may never get to a point where half of all Fortune 500 executives and nuclear physicists are women while half of all nurses and full-time parents are men. Indeed, overly aggressive attempts to achieve such an ideal could result in coercive social engineering schemes (such as the proposed
Swedish law that would require fathers as well as mothers
to take parental leave). On the other hand, sex differences are a matter of tendencies, not absolutes: Many women can be superb business leaders, many men wonderful nurturers.

The goal should be to ensure that individual opportunities and choices are not limited by gender. A true equality movement would speak up against working-mother-bashing or anti-father bigotry. It would raise its voice when pop culture depicts women as bimbos or men as jerks; when promiscuous women are judged more harshly than promiscuous men or when all sexual miscommunication is blamed on males. It would work to ensure that domestic violence is taken as seriously as any other crime and that violent women are judged by the same standards as violent men. It would understand that women should not be stigmatized any more than men for aggressive or selfish behavior, and that they should be held equally accountable for it.

An equality movement would urge not only men but women to reconsider their chauvinistic attitudes (such as the belief that they have a superior bond with their children) and their non-egalitarian expectations of the other sex. It would respect the choices of men and women who prefer traditional roles but would also convey the message that we cannot have it both ways. And, without pursuing the utopian goal of complete personal harmony between women and men, it would encourage us to understand that sometimes personal conflicts are just personal — and that, when it comes to inflicting private misery, women and men generally give as good as they get.

Modern technological and social advances have finally made possible a society in which individuals are judged not by the anatomy of their bodies but by the content of their character. The movement toward such a society had to start with an effort to extend to women the fundamental rights of adult citizens. Now, it’s the time to stress equal responsibilities as well as equal rights, to take a more nuanced view of sex and power, to resist the forces (traditionalist or feminist) that divide the sexes.

It’s time to remember that women have no special entitlement to happiness and that it’s not a special outrage when bad things happen to good women — because women are people, nothing less and nothing more.

Cathy Young is the author of "Ceasefire! Why Women and Men Must Join Forces to Achieve True Equality."

Sleuthing for my father

On her death bed my mother revealed a shocking secret. Now I am trying to solve its mystery

  • more
    • All Share Services

Sleuthing for my father (Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon)

Dear Advice,

The last thing my mom said to me was, “When I was young …” and then she died. I had no idea what she was trying to tell me. Then I found a letter she had written to a friend saying that the man she was in love with is my actual biological father.

My dad and I were in shock with the DNA results and now I have spent countless hours trying to find out who this man is. I can’t ask anyone as they are all dead and my dad said it must have been this guy who was in town for a short time while attending ammunition-inspector school in Savanna, Ill., but didn’t know a name.

I hired an archival researcher and a private investigator but no one can help me. Can you help me? I found out that many people came from all over the U.S. to attend this school and all I need is a list of names from around November 1961.  Please, please help me.

Into the Past

Dear Into the Past,

I love a mystery. I’m tempted to begin investigating myself. But I can’t do that. So you will have to keep at it.

It is hard to sustain a search without regular encouragement. So while I can’t fly there and help you look, I can offer encouragement to keep looking. Setbacks are to be expected. It will be slow going. You have to keep moving forward.

You may have begun to feel hopeless and want to give up. But if you give up you’ll never find out. At least if you keep at it until you have exhausted every avenue, you will have an answer. The answer may be that this man’s identity will never be known. At least that would be an answer. You will want the satisfaction of knowing you have done everything possible. So keep at it. If you become discouraged, take a break. Find elements of the investigation you can perform without expending much energy. But keep it going.

Be ready for your mind to play tricks on you. If discovering your biological father’s identity evokes any fear or uncertainty at all, then you may feel tired or discouraged because part of you does not even want to know. You may have thoughts like, Oh, who cares! Why bother! Beware of such thoughts. Your feeling that no one can help you may be one of those thoughts. Beware of the voice in you that says it is hopeless. That is the voice that really does not want to know.

But the real authentic you does want to know. Knowing where we come from is a deep human longing.

You hired an archival researcher and a private investigator. If their initial work turned up nothing, that is not so unusual. Such an investigation requires dogged thoroughness, going over ground already covered, doing things by rote even when it seems senseless, beginning yet again, trying illogical options on the off chance that something may lead to something. It can be maddening.

But there must be an answer! How many people can there be who attended ammunition-inspector school in Savanna, Ill., in November 1961?

The military keeps records. If this was a military operation there must be records. If there are records then they can be found. If you keep looking you will find them.

This column has many astute and creative readers. Perhaps one or more of them will have ideas or knowledge that may be helpful.

Good luck on your quest!

Continue Reading Close
Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

Where did the money go?

My parents went bankrupt twice. Suddenly I can't go to the college I want. They make good money. I don't understand

  • more
    • All Share Services

Where did the money go? (Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon)

Dear Cary,

I am 24 years old. Sometimes I get so angry that it is hard to function. Other times I get very anxious and I feel like I am on the verge of a breakdown. I think it stems from my parents. I don’t know what to do, and I need your advice.

My father is an engineer for a large oil company, and my mother works in a doctor’s office. My father has always been steadily employed (although I have lived in three different states growing up because of his job). However, I feel like my family has always been struggling financially. This has deeply affected me, especially when I graduated from college in a time when jobs were difficult to find. One problem is that I am not sure why it is this way — they live in a nice house, but definitely not one out of their means. They do not buy nice cars, and we did not go on vacations growing up. They do not eat out very often or buy anything that would be considered luxurious.

However, they have filed for bankruptcy twice.

My mom has worried about the electricity getting turned off because my dad did not pay it for two months, I have had my cellphone turned off multiple times, and there was a period of time where creditors were constantly calling. They have not been able to provide for me in a way where I felt like my basic needs were met (not just financially). The only thing that makes sense is that I am the oldest of four children and my youngest brother is autistic. He is 14, and was diagnosed 10 years ago. He is very bright, and is high-functioning (although it was worse when he was younger, and he would get violent). My mom was obsessed with trying to make him better and paid for expensive therapists of all kinds — supplements, medicine, you name it. That probably contributed to it significantly, but the first time they filed for bankruptcy, I don’t even think he was born.

I feel no sense of security in my life. I feel like I have had to shoulder a lot of responsibility prematurely. My mother was abused growing up, and she was absent from most of my childhood (not literally, but absent as a parent). The only real memories I have of her were of when she would lay in bed all day, and very little else. I was told a lot later in my life that when I was young she went to a treatment facility for a nervous breakdown and once was close to killing herself. Even when I was young, I had to do most things for myself, since my dad worked. I have an OK relationship with her now, but I don’t think it’s a typical mother-daughter relationship. If I have a problem, she does not offer to help in any way, she merely says, “sorry.” She has told me that she has too many problems going on in her life and that she can’t hear any of mine.

My mom and dad are still married, but their marriage is dysfunctional, and I have never seen them happy. My dad seems to be harboring a lot of anger and resentment from things that happened many years ago, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He spent my whole childhood telling me that we were a normal family and I believed it for a long time. I assumed a lot of dysfunctions were OK.

Most people consider me to be smart, and I did well in high school and college, even though it didn’t seem to matter that much to anyone else that I did well. When I was 18 and applying for colleges, my dad said he’d pay half if I went to one of the large public universities that was fairly close to home. It was not my first choice, but I went. The day before my new student conference, my mom told me I couldn’t go there because they didn’t have any money to pay for it and I needed to go to a cheaper school. With school starting in a couple weeks, that wasn’t even a viable option. My dad was still in denial about the whole thing, and I was left to fend for myself again. I went there, and I got by the first year without having to take any loans, and I got a few scholarships, but I ended up having to take some private loans after that. I filled out the FAFSA, but my parents made too much for me to qualify for anything other than some meager federal loans and the work-study program. I felt like college was supposed to be this liberating experience where I learned all this great information that challenged me. It was like that in some ways, but it was also extremely stressful because I had no money and did not know how I was going to make it sometimes. I worked through college, but that barely paid for anything. Almost every person I encountered had parents that were well-off. Very rarely did I encounter someone in my situation. I have been struggling financially trying to manage everything, but I feel so overwhelmed. When I get like this, it’s like my anger toward my parents gets unleashed, and I can’t keep it together. I feel like I could’ve gone to a much more prestigious school and not been saddled with debt if they had helped me like they were supposed to. I had always wanted to go to law school, but that was something I couldn’t even consider because of my undergrad debt. My best friend in college went to an Ivy League for law school, and sometimes I feel like I should’ve been there too. I am just as smart and capable. With the horror stories I hear about law school though, I am somewhat grateful I didn’t go. I wish I had had the opportunity to choose though.

My relationship with my dad is very strained now. We were very close when I was younger, and I am not sure why it changed. My dad has anger problems, and those have scarred a lot of my memories as a teenager.

A couple of years ago, I took my first job out of college and had to relocate for six months for a training program. While I was there, I was raped by a co-worker. My dad didn’t even call me to see if I was OK, and my mom said she couldn’t visit me because she didn’t have enough money for a plane ticket. That was a very low point in my life because I was in a state where I didn’t know anyone and the job made me feel completely isolated. I saw a therapist who helped me realize that I had a big drinking problem, but I did not deal with the anger. My whole goal was just to be able to function and get through it so I could move back.

The rape was traumatic, but there are many instances in my life where I feel I have been victimized. I feel like it’s because I have always sort of had to fend for myself, and I do not know how to respond or deal with it appropriately. Right now I work with someone who is always yelling, and I feel like I become a little girl again just trying to make the yelling go away. This makes me hate my job, which is already very stressful. I want a new job, but it’s not that easy to just get a new one.

The only person who has been supportive is my boyfriend, but he can’t solve my problems. He is still in school, which is a sore subject for me. I feel like I have very few friends that I can reach out to. I feel like a loner a lot of the time. I think I have learned to hide a lot of this well, though. I think a lot of people that don’t really know me think I am materialistic and somewhat high maintenance. I don’t think I am really that way, but it makes me feel better to have people think that than to think I am a very damaged person who can barely keep it together.

I am sorry this is so long and convoluted, but I am trying to make sense of everything and get past my negative emotions. I see a therapist, I took an antidepressant for three years (which I think was not very helpful), I try to exercise regularly, I have stopped drinking. I just feel like without the drinking I have all these emotions that are haunting me, and I have no way of numbing them.

I have tried very hard to deal with them and move on, but I can’t. I just get stuck focusing on it. Sometimes I feel like things in my life have gotten better, and then something will happen to me that knocks me on my ass and I am back to facing the same emotions. I have made a lot of progress in the last three years, but I still have so much more to go. Sometimes I feel like there’s no point in trying to keep living, because it’s just a vicious cycle that never ends. I feel like I only have one person that really cares, but he doesn’t know how to make it better.

Don’t get me wrong, I felt like I was in hell three years ago. I have made great strides since then. However, all of this makes me feel like one day I’ll trip and fall and just not be able to get back up.

Thanks,

Angry

Dear Angry,

This advice column runs long letters. People have long stories. We like to hear the whole story. That doesn’t mean we can fix everything.

Plumbing can be fixed. But here, there is no little problem to fix. There is instead a life to honor.

You have been hurt by your family. You have been raped by a co-worker and then abandoned by your family when you needed them. You wanted things and thought you would have them and then they were snatched away. Secrets have been kept from you. You feel great anger at your family, and you have drowned that anger in drinking, and now you feel confused and don’t know what to do.

So what can you do? I suggest you continue therapy and look into the archetypal, emotional and philosophical roots of your feelings about money — perhaps by looking into Inner Economics. Also, examine the teachings of Murray Bowen in family systems, which can help you decode the baffling effects of your family life.

Money is treated by many as a problem to be solved analytically, but often we feel too crazy about money to calmly do the problem-solving. We need first to confront our emotional conflicts about what money is and what it means.

This may sound out of the blue, but it is what I want to say: Ask yourself, What is the best part of you? What is the most alive, creative, singing part of you? What part of you really shines? Where is it that you feel most alive, most sure of yourself, in control — the place where forces greater than you seem to come into play and you work in tandem with them? In what situations do you achieve flow? Concentrate on these things for a while.

Train yourself to take note of your attractions. When you are attracted to something — clothes, or music, or ideas — give yourself permission to investigate. I suggest this because when we are dysfunctional about money, when things have been withheld from us, when we have been betrayed, we tend to believe that there is nothing in life we can have; everything is too expensive or beyond our means, or will be snatched away from us. So we impoverish ourselves. There are ways to get the things you truly need, the things that will complete you. This sounds a little mystical, but it need not be at all. It is as simple as saying, Hey, I like to play a round of golf on the weekends. “Normal” people do this all the time. It’s just those of us who grew up in strange and mysterious dysfunctional houses who think we can’t have any of those things.

You can have the things you want. Allow yourself to feel sad about the things that have happened. Allow yourself to work for the things you want.

Allow yourself.

Continue Reading Close
Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

Me and baby, living at Mom’s

I got pregnant young, got married young and already we're separated. Now what?

  • more
    • All Share Services

Me and baby, living at Mom's (Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon)

Dear Reader,

I’m taking a little vacation down in Florida. It may be possible to conduct a couple of writing workshops while I’m down there, if a space and people can be arranged. I’ll be in Fort Lauderdale Thursday the 5th, then the Gainesville area from Friday the 6th until Sunday or Monday, and then back in Fort Lauderdale the 10th through 12th. Email me if you’d like to attend or help set something up. It would be great to meet some interested people and write together.

The column should resume Monday, April 16.

Dear Cary,

I’m a 20-year-old female. I’ve been married for just a little under one year now. I also have a healthy 7-month-old son. I only had a relationship with my husband for one month before we got engaged. Two months after that I got pregnant.

Everything was great up until the engagement. The pregnancy made things a little better for about two months. We got married around the time I was 4 months. As time passed things got worse and we got distant. He has been all about himself and only did things for me to get stuff out of it for himself. He has been tempted to cheat and has talked inappropriately to other girls during our whole marriage. I finally got tired of it and I’m now at my mom’s. He wants me to come home but I can’t bring myself to do it.

He is horrible with money and we would have to get money from family to get the baby what he needs and get us food too. He left me in the hospital while I was 8 and a half months pregnant.

He still tries to bribe me to come back and it’s all about him again. He wants me to give him the rest of my money but I’m about to get my license and my sister is giving me her old car. It feels like he doesn’t want me to have money so I can’t get anything and I’ll need him. He makes $600 biweekly while I make less than $300. Although I love him I’m not in love with him. It feels like I stayed with him for the baby. Now I don’t know what to do. Should I go back and try to work it out even though I gave him a bunch of chances before and he hasn’t changed, or should I leave him for good? I’m torn between the two. Everyone says I should finally leave him but I’m not sure. Can you help?

Torn

Dear Torn,

It’s probably best for now that you take care of your baby and stay at your mother’s. You’re safe, you’re healthy and you have a healthy baby. If your mother will keep you there, then you have a stable place to raise this kid. You don’t need a man in your life right now. You need to concentrate on surviving, making a decent living and providing for your kid.

That may seem hard at times. You may feel lonely and truly want your husband. You may miss the intimacy and the good times. But your life has changed. You have some very grown-up challenges now.

It won’t be like this forever. At least maintain the situation as it is for a year or two and see how things go. Make stability your chief priority. Try to eliminate all the distractions and drama from your life right now, and just concentrate on raising your baby. Be grateful for your mom’s help and support. These are crucial months for your baby. The stronger you are, the more secure you feel, the better it will be for your baby.

Later, when you feel you have some breathing room, you can think about longer-term plans. Maybe your husband will fit into those plans and maybe not.

Can you stay with your mother while you endeavor to perhaps finish a college degree or get some training in a business or trade? Can she take care of the child while you are out of the house, or does she also have many outside obligations? How long can you imagine living with her? Are things OK or are they tense? If things are OK now, it may be that you and she could raise this child for the next few years. Then you could move out when the child is a little older and you’re on your feet financially.

These are the kinds of things you will need to think about.

Time is going to fly by. Since you are young, your perception of time is that of a young person. But marriage and child-rearing happen over years and decades. So does your relationship with your mother. These are slow-moving, evolving things. They require the long view. Your best decisions will not be based on how you feel right this moment, but on how things will be in three to five years.

So take some time to visualize how you want things to be in three to five years. Think about your baby and what will be happening then.

It’s hard for some people, myself included, to do this kind of thinking. We like to live in the moment. But planning does not necessarily require a calendar and a calculator. One way to start planning is to simply visualize things. Think about how you want it to be. Clip pictures from magazines or print images from the Internet that represent how you want things to be. Surround yourself with images of your ideal life. When you feel tense or frightened or confused, spend time visualizing the life you want to have. If you can imagine it, you can at least head in that direction. Then when people with some experience in life see your vision they can say, Hey, here is how you get from here to there.

Your child’s father at some point will most likely want to be in his life. That could be a positive thing. Your child will probably want to know his or her father. So do what you can to maintain a good relationship with him, even if you are apart. Just don’t let him take over your life; don’t believe his promises. Believe only what you see. He may not be mature enough and stable enough right now but that could change. So try not to burn your bridges. Just tell him that right now you have to do what’s healthiest and most financially stable for you and the baby.

Be kind to your mother. She may get on your nerves from time to time but she is really saving your life. Take advantage of her willingness to help. She is probably excited about having a grandchild and will enjoy helping, but may feel at times that she’s overworked.

All the important people in your life are growing up. You’re all changing. There are great surprises and challenges ahead. Welcome to adult life!

Just take it one day at a time. You’ll be OK. You’ll get through this, things will get easier, and one day you’ll look back in amazement.

Continue Reading Close
Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

I had to move back in with my dad

I'm a grown woman who lost her job. Now I'm living with a man who won't wash his hands

  • more
    • All Share Services

I had to move back in with my dad (Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon)

Dear Cary,

I need your help in determining if I am an ungrateful daughter or person reacting to a shitty situation. I am a 38-year-old woman who, like many Americans, has lost my job due to the recession. However, I do bartend part time. Needless to say, I was experiencing financial difficulties and because I couldn’t find a job I decided to attend school in an effort to make myself more employable. My father expressed how impressed he was with my educational endeavors and made me an offer that I could not refuse. He said that I could live in one of his rental houses until I was out of school and I would only be responsible for utilities. This was music to my ears. Within no time I was packing my bags and moving out of my apartment. I moved to the house and paid to get new carpet and tile installed as well as have the house painted. My father was working on getting the house up to code so that it would pass inspection and after the inspection he was supposed to go back to live out of state. Here it is one and a half years later and my father has not left. The carpet that I purchased is completely ruined and so are the tile floors.

Why? you may ask. Because he is a complete and utter slob! He grew up on a farm and spends lots of time outside tending to his garden and fixing his many lawnmowers that he has fished out of the trash. I spend hours cleaning, all for him to destroy the house in literally a matter of minutes. It is ridiculous. To add insult to injury he does not wash his hands … EVER. Not even after going poo … I feel like I was hoodwinked and bamboozled, because there is no way in hell I would have ever put myself in a situation to live with one of my parents at this point and time in my life. I have expressed my frustration with the situation, but he doesn’t want to ever talk about it. I want to move, but right now I am not financially stable and I am so close to finishing school, I don’t want to jeopardize my studies.

Grown Woman Living in Daddy’s House

Dear Grown Woman Living in Daddy’s House

I don’t think you are an ungrateful daughter. I think you are a person reacting to a shitty situation in an understandable way.

After years of being self-sufficient you’ve been thrown back into dependent daughterhood. That has got to trigger some feelings you’re not prepared for. That’s got to be tough on the ego. It would be hard for it not to matter how well your father handled it.

And he’s not handling it all that sensitively, one must say. When our  survival is symbolically threatened, we sometimes reassure ourselves by making our immediate surroundings clean and healthy and spotless. It’s a good thing to do if you’re feeling threatened and insecure; it can cheer you up to clean house. So here’s an interesting symbolic contradiction: Here you have come to your dad to help you survive, and he is providing for you, yet also doing things that symbolically threaten your survival: Dirt, poo, infection, disease, loss of control!

Subconsciously it may be felt as aggression: Your dad is threatening your survival rather than nurturing it. He’s bringing danger into the house. He’s bringing dirt and disease into the house, meaning, symbolically, into your body. So he’s polluting you when you are trying to regain your strength. The literal-minded may quibble but we’re talking about emotions that take place below our conscious awareness, in the language of symbols.

On the surface he’s doing you a favor, and good for him. But he’s also not admitting your personhood or your power: He’s retaining his own power over his own place. That’s the prerogative of property ownership in a society that worships property. You are expected to grant him the prerogatives of ownership. But he’s not accommodating you, really, as a person. It may even feel as though he’s trying to push you out.

His hospitality may be begrudging; his messing up the house may be passive-aggressive; he probably wants to go on living as he is accustomed to living. There may also be some unspoken disapproval of your reversal of fortune, and perhaps a little unspoken “I told you so,” if you have been too independent for his liking. He may even be enjoying being the father to a relatively helpless daughter once again — a daughter who cannot force him to wipe his feet.

Assuming your parents are divorced, is he also repeating a pattern of conflict he had with your mother? Could be. They could have had fights over just such things. If those fights led to their divorce, you may also be experiencing uncomfortable memories of an earlier symbolic threat to your survival. Also, not to jump ahead, but this could also be a preview of the role reversal that happens as your dad ages and weakens and you take on the role of caretaker, being sure he washes his hands and wipes his feet, as a mother would do in raising a child.

But that’s just the messy symbolic stuff it’s my job to dredge up. On the surface, in the practical present, you’re a capable adult woman in control of her life and career. You’ve made yourself a plan that requires you to do some compromising. That’s what this is: It’s a conscious compromise. You’re still making your own choices. This is just temporary.

You’ve found shelter in a bad time. Your dad is your ally. He loves you. He’s providing you a place.  He’s doing what he can, in his way.

Hang in there, finish your course of study, thank your dad and stay positive. When you look back on this, as uncomfortable as it is now, you’ll be grateful there was a place for you to go. With the passage of time it may even become a fond if bittersweet memory.

Continue Reading Close
Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

I’ve never had a drink in my whole life

Because of a family history, I've never touched a drop. And then there was a toast and we raised our glasses ...

  • more
    • All Share Services

I've never had a drink in my whole life (Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon)

Dear Cary,

I’ve read your column often, and I think you can help me since you yourself have dealt with the consequences of addiction.

I really don’t know who else to turn to with this particular problem since most self-help books don’t deal with people who don’t drink.

I am in my mid-20s. In a nutshell, I was raised as an only child in a single-parent home with an alcoholic mother, who self-medicated with wine to deal with depression.

I know she loved me more than anything, and she sacrificed a lot to try to give me a good life, but as a kid, I felt as if I was battling her alcoholism for her. I would constantly find single-serving wine bottles stuffed between couch cushions, and it was an almost nightly occurrence for her to drink herself to sleep, leaving the house a mess and me to throw away the empty bottles and rinse out the glasses she would leave next to the couch. After she would go to bed, it was usually a coin flip whether or not she would rise from her sleep to stalk around the house staring blindly at everything and shouting incoherently. More than once she, thoroughly drunk, thought I was a burglar and tried to attack me. The first time this happened I was 11, and in her mind she had gone back in time and thought I was going to steal her baby (me). She nearly strangled me.

What made my childhood much easier was the fact that I had grandparents nearby who did not seem to struggle with alcoholism or poverty or depression. They were good people who seemed to rise above all the stupidity we are capable of. In fact they helped my mother make ends meet on a few occasions, and they always seemed to come to the rescue when we were in a jam. I felt more often than not that my grandparents were like my real parents, and my mother was like some big crazy sister who loved me a lot but was still trying to figure things out.

And from a young age, the lesson they kept quietly teaching me was that alcoholism was a demon in our family. It ran in our blood, and had ruined cousins, uncles and sisters. And the best way to avoid this fate was not to start at all.

And for my part I promised myself that I would never drink, or smoke, or do drugs.

And I never did.

A lot of people may not believe me, but I have never so much as sipped a beer, or taken a drag from a cigarette. And there is my problem. Everyone who knows me knows that I don’t drink, and I feel like I’ve put myself in this box where I will never drink.

This was fine for my early 20s, and in some ways I felt superior for not having blown hundreds of dollars at the bars, or woken up with hangovers, or been so drunk I couldn’t remember what happened to me. I have always been in control of my life, and that is something I take pride in.

But I also feel like there is this whole side to life that I may be missing out on, and that maybe I should relax these rules I’ve created for myself. I feel that a lot of people can’t relate to the fact I don’t drink, and I also would sometimes really like to be able to have a beer with my friends and be their equal, and not this always-sober outsider. A few weeks ago at a champagne brunch with friendly strangers who didn’t know I don’t drink, the waiter poured me a glass of champagne, and when they toasted I held it up and looked at it for a long time before I realized my wife was staring at me.

What to do?

Dear What to Do,

Testing yourself for alcoholism is like testing yourself for flammability. You’re probably not. But what if you are?

“Given the fact that alcohol-dependence seems highly heritable,” why take the risk?

Why not instead ask what needs alcohol might satisfy, and then find other ways to satisfy those same needs? Why not seek safe, life-enhancing alternatives to drinking? Why not read Abraham Maslow and design your life around the quest for peak experiences?

We raise our glasses and drink ceremonially to sanctify some event or passage. We all drink from the same bottle. By imbibing the same drink, we are joined; it is a kind of sacrament. You can mime the gestures but something pulls you to fully engage. Of course it does. This is not just about getting a little champagne in your mouth. It is a powerful ritual.

My suggestion is to find even better ways, more direct, honest and compelling ways to have this same ritual bonding and expression of shared esteem and purpose. I suggest you make this a lifelong pursuit. Make it a way of undoing for good the perhaps multigenerational history of alcoholism in your family.

This way, if those who dispute the role of genes in alcoholism are correct, and behavioral factors are more important, then you will still be doing something to eradicate certain behaviors that were leading to case after case of alcoholism. You will be finding something that members of your family have a particular need for, and satisfying that need.

Look for something that seems cool but not too cool, something you’ve always wanted to do, something you’re drawn to, that’s maybe a little outside your normal range but not totally kooky and weird.

For instance, it may be possible to participate in the ecstatic communality of a sweat lodge. I don’t know. Maybe a sweat lodge would be too weird for you. I don’t know how much facial hair you have, or what your body mass index is. I’m just saying, identify the underlying principle and then find something that suits your social tastes.

That there are things wrong in the world, that there are things so awful in this world that knowledge of them drives us to want to blot them out of consciousness. Read today’s piece by Noam Chomsky, for instance, for a reminder of how thinly “normal American life” veils our history of brutal atrocities.

How are you supposed to think about these things and not feel as though you are going mad? How are you supposed to have a conscience and not feel trapped by history? How are you to take all this in, as a young person? How to reconcile knowledge of evil done in one’s name with the innocent desire to believe in one’s country, to identify with one’s countrymen, to feel strong and patriotic and confident about the future?

These, too, are legitimate questions. So, my friend, I urge you to take seriously the genetic and environmental risk factors for alcoholism, and actively seek ways to have ecstatic experiences in this insane world without killing yourself. Adopt adaptive behaviors that don’t make things worse.

Continue Reading Close
Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

Page 1 of 58 in Family