My son, Ethan, and I have a very interesting relationship. I joke
that he's taught me everything I know about debating because, in many ways,
raising him was one long verbal sparring match! I have to catch myself, though,
when I reject what he's saying out of hand or out of habit, and this is one of
those times.
Upon reading my
better-40-years-late-than-never analysis of Rhoda, he gave me a lot
to think about. Specifically, he cautioned me that my tone sounded very much
like that of a wounded woman. Believe me, readers, I tried not to take that
approach! I have been wounded in love (most of us have, to one degree or
another), but I didn't want my argument to sound like it sprang from sour
grapes.
So, in the interest of
fairness, let me try to capsulize some of the astute points made by my wiser
than his years college student.
First of all, it occurs to me that I could easily have borrowed
from Shakespeare and titled my previous post “Lust's Labor Lost” because in the scene
I zeroed in on, Rhoda’s urge-driven husband took advantage of her vulnerability.
But Ethan reminded me that this dynamic can come into play on both sides of the
cheap motel bed. That is to say, either or both of the parties can end up feeling
used.
Case in point. In high school, I dated a truly kind and loving
young man. He was both a gentleman and a gentle
man; I’m pretty sure he picked up the tab for every dinner and movie we
went to, without expecting anything in return. When I broke up with him after the
better part of two years, I offered some lame, Hollywood-esque excuse about
having failed to find it within myself to love him. I’ll never forget the
hurt in his eyes as he countered with, “I treated you nice!” before backing out of my driveway and out of my life.
When I shared this story with Ethan, his response was, “Good for
him!” and “I hope he ended up with some model!” My son saw things from the
point of view of the rejected guy, wondering out loud why I had strung him
along all that time if I really wasn’t interested. Looking back, I realize
there were many reasons for my lack of candor, chief among them the desire to be desired, to be able to say
I had a boyfriend, even if he didn’t make my heart skip a beat. I think his
parting words to me meant he felt like the effort and hopes he invested in our relationship
had been a waste of time. Perhaps it would soothe his damaged heart to know I
got my comeuppance later on; perhaps not. Either way, I feel sorry for treating
this dear man so shabbily.
Ethan also pointed out that sex is not the only motive for being
disingenuous in romance. It can be about material gain (think 20-something
trophy wives being scooped up by filthy rich octogenarians). It can be about an
ego boost (think average-looking person dating one of the “beautiful people” to
buoy up self-esteem). It can be as simple as not wanting to be alone on a
Saturday night.
On another note, sex can also be employed as a tool to get what one
wants. Remember the scene in The Three
Musketeers where the pious jailer succumbs to Milady’s charms and helps her
escape? A clear case of manipulation by the fairer sex! Milady used what she
had to get her needs met. So I would be remiss in not pointing out that the “taker”
in a relationship isn’t always in it for physical gratification. Both sexes are
fully capable of playing the “Let’s See How Much Can I Get Out of the Other
Person Before He/She Figures Out I’m Just Using Him/Her” game. It’s
unattractive and unfair, no matter who’s doing the conning.
Finally, to paraphrase
Ethan, sooner or later, most of us end up on somebody else’s emotional hook. It’s
kind of the nature of that two-faced beast we call love – but tackling the
beast is the only way to find out what lies on the other side.
“Let nothing be done through
selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than
himself.” ~ Philippians 2:3
For more like this, check out: Reflections by Thea: The Trouble with Rhoda
No comments:
Post a Comment