Shoving the Genie Back into the Bottle

I like being in a relationship. Let me qualify that: I like being in a *good* relationship, one characterized by respect, affection, mutual admiration and support, fun, and awesome sweaty sex. It doesn’t really feel natural for me to be "alone." I am the kind of person who probably *should* be married, which is ironic, since I've taken a vow of "I don't."

I grew up believing that when you got married, you stayed married for the rest of your life. I also grew up believing in Santa Claus, the equality of the American justice system, and other absurd myths adults love to pass on to the younger generation before the messiness of real life complicates everything with its more nuanced truths. It’s the way grownups *want* it to be, not necessarily how it is.

Remember what it felt like to discover that Santa Claus isn’t real? Divorce is the adult version of finding out about Santa. Both were hard kicks to the gut, while face-palming myself over and over with, 'How could you be so stupid?' Before I was married, I thought of divorce as something that befell careless people who lacked the discerning judgment to avoid a mismatch. (Although who’s to say I wasn't careless?) Now that I'm divorced, I think the messy truth is, it's a whole lot more than just that. I cringe when I think about my youthful hubris that led me to believe that reciting vows to stay married "till death do us part" was some sort of magical incantation that protected me against the possibility of ever splitting up. From this middle-aged divorcee’s jaded perspective, remaining happily married over the long haul seems as far-fetched as my childhood belief in a bearded fat guy who travels the globe by flying reindeer sleigh to deliver toys to all the children of the world on one single night every year.

My jaded side, which is overly sensitive to all the potential obstacles to a satisfying long-term relationship, is at war with my optimistic side, which wants to believe in the longevity of romantic relationships despite the cognitive dissonance of previous experience. "At war" probably overstates it. It’s more like my jaded side is the insecure eye-rolling middle-school bully who taunts my earnest optimistic side, which wants to believe that one big epic fail at marriage doesn't doom me to a lifetime of unsuccessful short-term relationships.

Now that I’m in a committed new relationship, I wonder how I can reconcile these conflicting views. Is it unrealistic to think that I could have a satisfying long-term romantic relationship without having to suspend my disbelief in marriage? Or do I have to figure out how to somehow shove the marriage genie back into the bottle and unknow what I already know?