Dear E. Jean: I’m in love with a wonderful man. We laugh, talk, inspire, and support each other. We hug, we shag, we cuddle. He’s the one who understands me best; but when he asked me to marry him, I said no. Marriage to me is a death sentence, a path to a joyless, sexless life; just thinking of marriage sends me into panic attacks. And yes, if you’re wondering, my parents are still married. I’m not waiting for something better to come along. I just don’t want to marry. What to do? I can’t imagine my life without him. On the other hand, I can’t imagine my life with him. Please help!—A Marriage-Phobic
Phobic, my firebrand : Phoo. Don’t get yourself in such a lather. Haven’t you ever heard of divorce? Hell, I’m against marriage (it’s an archaic institution; I lurve my freedom), and even I’ve been married. Twice. The most delish book on wedlock ever written just came out: I Don’t: A Contrarian History of Marriage (Bloomsbury). It’s by Susan Squire. Get it!
This letter is from the E. Jean archive.
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