Yes, I married the first guy who asked, but at age 20 wasn't particularly desperate. I went to visit the DH for the Christmas holiday (he was attending University of York), and the very last thing in my stocking was a ring. He did the whole on-bended-knee thing.

But it was contingent on him asking my dad's permission, which I agreed to because it would tickle my dad, and us being grown up and employed and stuff. Then DH went and passed the FS exam.

So we got married the day after graduation, since the families would be in town anyway. A guy that I'd dated brought some drama, with a last-minute "choose me" play, but no.

In the time since, I've met maybe one other person that I could maybe have viewed as a spouse. While DH and I have separated (a couple times), fought like cats and dogs (mostly when we were younger), and have generally not had Stepford Marriage, DH #1 is DH#Only. I was and am fully prepared to otherwise be Not Married.

Also, as friends of ours point out, we're lucky we found each other, because no one else could survive being stuck with either of us.

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P-C, you must be walking funny, because you have balls of STEEL.

Okay, weak humor, but I stand by the sentiment. You laid it out plain for them, knowing the odds were high that they wouldn't respond in a favorable (or even neutral) way, but you still did it.

Shit, you shouldn't even have had to tell them about all your amazing kickass accomplishments -- they should be accosting people in the grocery store to tell them to go see your play, or how successful you are in your career, or what a good, caring, funny, wicked smart person you are.

And the thing is, they know all that, but they just won't step back and realize that they are so fucking lucky. You could be a lousy son, a jackass who has no interest in being fully engaged in life, or a druggie, or a porn star.

Hell, you could lie to them about your intentions to marry, and actions toward that end, but you *don't*, because you're a good person and don't roll that way. And they could at least appreciate that.

I totally agree with the people in LJ who are angry on your behalf. Any parents would be thrilled to have a son like you. You're like winning the goddamn kid lottery, and your parents act like you're a felon.

I also agree that therapy wouldn't be a bad idea, just to get perspective and maybe some ongoing coping tips from someone who is totally outside the situation (because all of your friends are just going to shake our fists and cry for blood on your behalf).

(And, dude? Even if only 2 therapy sessions are free, you yourself pointed out that you have a good job and make a good living, so spend some of that money on therapy. It's a worthwhile investment.)

It's so hard to realize you have a kickass life on your own terms, and it's not defined by your parents' expectations. And I realize I can't even fully comprehend the weight of their expectations, because it's so laden with Gujarati culture and generations of people who have done things the same way, over and over and over. I know that I don't totally grasp it, but I don't think I need to in order to tell you this: it sucks, and it's hard, but your life and your worth is something that YOU have to determine for yourself.

And I think you *are,* and have been for a while, in a lot of ways (acting, and your job, and what an awesome friend you are). But your parents' expectations is a huge weight, like a boulder you're dragging behind you. But sometimes you just have to leave the boulder on someone's front lawn and walk away.

They made you, and raised you, and they aren't *bad* people, but your parents are being tragically shortsighted jerks right now.

You, however? ROCK. (Also? Balls of STEEL.)

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See, the way I feel (and how I ended up kinda disassociating from my parents' crazy expectations...which they've mellowed a bit as they've gotten older, and gotten crazier in other ways) is that you know if you were married, it would be about whether you had kids. Or whether you were supporting your parents properly. Or whether your wife was showing appropriate respect. And once you had kids, it would be whether you were bringing the kids to see the grandparents often enough, or raising them correctly (teaching them the appropriate Gujarati things!) etc, etc. It will never end...it's NOT just this one marriage thing. So you can't just give in. Cause it will never end.

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{{P.-C.}} I'd like to add something to what Steph just said, but I've got nothing to trump Balls of Steel.

As a 41-year-old non-married female, I am very grateful that I have no cultural/parental concerns regarding my status.

As a 46-year-old never-married childless-by-choice female, I am also very grateful for the lack of familial expectations in those areas.

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Bitches are wise. The only thing I have to add is this chestnut: your family knows how to push your buttons because they installed them.

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((( P-C ))) dunno what to say that hasn't been said better by smarter folks. I'm pushing 39 and not anywhere close to being married. Thankfully parents don't pester about it. My sister is starting to. Every time I call, that is one of the first questions "met any nice girls yet?" or "Any hot dates recently" I learned not to tell when I do have a date, because she thinks it will lead to something, which it never really does. But that drama is NOTHING compared to yours. Stay strong, my brother. You have us to lean on.

((( Hil ))) Don't stress about things you have no control over. I know, easy to say, hard to do. But, we got your back. Stay strong.

As she was clearing out the hall closet so she could work in there, she discovered, at the very back of the top shelf, a grenade.

:: blink blink :: HUH?!? That is just crazy.

I told The Boy this weekend that we need to get married so that we can send out save-the-date cards like these: [link]

NICE!

omnis, don't burn your apartment. How else could I come and live with you if it'll be burned?

You heard it here first. Shir is wanting to shack up with me! SWEET! :: happy dance in style of Snoopy :: [link]

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P-C, that was an amazing letter, and I'm truly sorry about the response. Let me give you a tiny peek from another angle. I was not the bride H's parents wanted for him: Wrong ethnicity, wrong religion, wrong culture, parents not wealthy or admirable, not pretty enough. H decided he loved me, and told them so. They cut off all communication.

Seven years, two continents, four house moves, two kids, a stint in the army, and two jobs later, they called and asked us to dinner. All was forgiven, on both sides, and they have never failed in their love and support from that moment. So things can work out. But you have to live your own life and let everyone else work through their stuff. It's not yours to fix.

You're a brave man. You have my respect, as well as affection.

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I wish I could put my name on Steph's post cuz, yeah...and YEAH!

(Also, for fuck's sake, they paid for college, but the only semester I had to pay for grad school, I took out a loan myself and paid it all back myself, and I bought my fucking car with my own fucking money that I earned at my own fucking job.)

As I was reading your mom's response...granted I don't know you other than on-board...I was drumming my fingers on the desk saying to myself, um, pretty sure he paid for that stuff himself and, regardless, the stuff parents pay for out of choice should NEVER be used as a weapon. That's just low.

Obviously, I concur with the idea of getting some helpful tools through counseling and/or coaching. If it feels like too much of a financial investment (though I agree with what others have said about value vs. dollars), many religious institutions have low or no cost counseling services.

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My parents never give me shit about not providing them with grandchildren because they're both kind and sane enough to know that this bothers me more than it could ever bother them. The marriage thing would be nice too, but its less of a time-sensitive situation.

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I've never been proposed to. I proposed, while eating some broccoli and cheese sauce, after taking an Ambien. (Hey, i forgot to eat and then I got hungry before going to bed.)

So it was kinda a woozy, cheesy,

"Do you wanna marry me?" "Of course." "Ok NOM NOM NOM cheese! Uh -- are we engaged, then?"

ION, our basement flooded. NOT HAPPY.

P-C, you are much nicer than I.

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