Dear Modern Austen: Is marriage proof of love?
Stuck On A Love Plateau asks Modern Austen where their relationship is "going."
Dear Modern Austen,
After years of falling for the wrong men—men who found one reason or another why they couldn’t be in a committed relationship with me—or avoiding relationships all together, I find myself in love for the first time. I don’t recall feeling this way about anyone else I’ve dated. I know I’ve been head over heels in passion, which has always ended in heartbreak for me. I’ve also said “I love you” without really meaning it. (I blurted it out to a man I’d only been seeing for a month while we were cuddling after sex. I must have meant to say something else, but I don’t know what. I remember I couldn’t think of a reply to his question that’s probably easier for normal people to answer: “What are you thinking about?” Why couldn’t I have just made something up? Of course he couldn’t say, “I love you, too,” because neither of us were in love. He was very nice about it, saying that he’d like to spend more time getting to know me. It didn’t last.) But I know I’m in love, because this feeling is different from the excitement I’ve felt about dating a person or having a love affair. It’s so many feelings mixed together: happiness, loneliness, passion, sadness, comfort, insecurity. Above all, there’s a deep-rooted fear that this man I love will stop loving me once he discovers the horrible truth I’m convinced I’m hiding from everyone (honestly, sometimes being in love makes me feel like a psychopath).
We’re about a year into our relationship, and thus far there’s no sign he wants to run away—I don’t have an urge to run away to save myself from the rejection that’s yet to come either. If there really is one person in the world for each of us, then I believe I’ve found him.
Saying “I love you” happened so naturally for us. The first time was unplanned, unexpected. I had been thinking about saying it for a few weeks when my boyfriend said it while laughing at something ridiculous I’d said. It was late. We were standing at the bar of our rough-around-the-edges neighborhood joint, drinking cheap wine and eating fried anchovies. I don’t know if he really intended to say “I love you” at that moment. What kept me from saying it was a need to be certain that I was (and, selfishly, I wanted him to say it first). “Really?” I asked to clarify that I understood. He nodded his head and smiled. “I feel the same,” I said. To celebrate, my boyfriend ordered the best cheap wine on the menu.
I’ve mostly been with men who were never interested in having a serious relationship, so this is all very new to me. I’ve mostly been with men who have been through terrible divorces or breakups and couldn’t stomach the responsibility of being someone’s boyfriend—they could always stomach sleeping with me, though. For a long time, I convinced myself that commitment and love weren’t for me. When my boyfriend first asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend, I considered breaking up with him and running away, like all the other men I thought I could love did to me. I even invented excuses for why the relationship needed to end: “He’s more into me than I am into him.” “He’s too romantic, and I don’t like public displays of affection.” “I’m just too independent for a committed relationship.” I agreed to be his girlfriend, but I started to become distant. My boyfriend was patient at first but eventually confronted me: “Why are you acting this way?” When I told him my history with men who didn’t want to be with me, who couldn’t be in a committed relationship with me, he assured me that wasn’t the case with him. “I don’t plan on hurting you,” he said. Of course most couples don’t set out to hurt each other, but I believed him then and still believe that he won’t hurt me.
But this relationship isn’t without pain. While my boyfriend is committed to our relationship, he’s already been married and already has a kid. As you can see, Modern Austen, the story of my life seems to be that I only attract men who have completed the big milestones of life with someone else. At least that’s what it feels like sometimes. I love this man and the fact that I’m building a relationship with his young daughter (she’s 4). I love him for wanting to live close to his daughter at this time in her life, to share responsibilities with her mother, to continue to do things as a family. More and more I’m being invited to be part of that family, to go on day trips or have dinner together. This is nice, and I can see that there is only a really nice, close friendship between my boyfriend and his ex. I get this feeling sometimes, though, that I’m a woman he sees when he’s away from his “real” life; not quite like an affair, but not quite like we’re a couple either. It’s a feeling that makes this relationship lonely when I can’t be with my boyfriend because he needs to be with his daughter and, therefore, his ex-wife. I have to understand because I’m not a 4-year-old with no capacity for understanding, but understanding doesn’t always feel good.
Since we’ve started seeing each other, I’ve understood that he doesn’t want to get remarried, which is fine as marriage has never been a particular goal of mine. What I’ve been having to reckon with is that he doesn’t want to have any more kids and even had a vasectomy (he’s got a certificate to prove it) to ensure that it isn’t possible. If I was sure that I wanted kids, this would have been a deal breaker. I’m still undecided about motherhood, though, and I’m not really precious about needing to have a baby with the man I love. In theory, I’m open to using a sperm donor and raising a kid on my own. When I brought this up with my boyfriend to see how he would feel about it, he hesitated. He has to think about his daughter, he said, and how she would feel about her dad living with a kid that isn’t his (OK, so he sees us living together one day). I explained that becoming a mother might be important to me, but I wasn’t sure yet. We let the conversation drop and haven’t picked it up again.
Where is our relationship going if marriage and children aren’t possible? If we don’t even want those things? These are questions I know we need to answer together. I know I need to ask myself if I can really get over the fact that my boyfriend married and had a child with someone else—did I just enter his life at the wrong moment? Or is it the perfect moment? A moment where he is who he is—and I love that person—because of these choices he’s made. Should this relationship end now, because I don’t know what kind of future it has? Does love always have to go somewhere? Does it have to eventually lead to a “prize”: a ring, a baby, a house?
Thanks for your help,
STUCK ON A LOVE PLATEAU
If there’s a personal matter you’d like Modern Austen’s advice on, you can send your letters to modernaustenblog@gmail.com. Please indicate whether you’re comfortable with your letter being published, & do use a clever pseudonym.
Dear Stuck on a Love Plateau,
I wondered when a heroine’s letter would force me to reflect on the value (the point!) of romantic love in a woman’s life; it seems the time has come! I hope to do it & your letter justice. In the time Austen was writing, love wasn’t as important as security or, rather, as making a secure match. To be “well-married” is Mrs. Bennet’s desire for her daughters in P&P, as it’s their only hope of having a future where they aren’t reliant on the kindness of a distant male relative or completely destitute. The sad thing is that even if the Bennet sisters had brothers they could rely on for security, those brothers would one day have wives, & to remain unmarried would still make them burdens to their family. Charlotte Lucas knows this truth too well, having brothers herself, & impresses upon Lizzy the importance of Jane showing “more affection than she feels” to Mr. Bingley or “she may lose the opportunity of fixing him”.1 Lizzy brushes her friend’s advice off as a good approach to the game of husband-hunting, but in her opinion 4 dances at Meryton & dining with him in company an additional 4 times is not enough time for Jane to know if she loves Bingley. But Charlotte echoes a societal belief: love need not be a precursor to marriage.— There isn’t time! “When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chuses”,2 she tells Lizzy, who doesn’t want to believe that all women are in a race.
As women, we’re always racing toward or against something, &, no matter what we do, it always feels like we’re in danger of losing. In P&P, Jane Austen shows that a woman’s greatest race is getting married, whether she loves her partner or not. Like Lizzy, we don’t want Charlotte Lucas’s view of the institution to be true: marriage is the security & falling in love is a bonus. But is viewing marriage as a prize for falling in love any better? You’re resisting this notion that marriage has to be love’s final destination, but I also sense a hint of insecurity in your letter. Is your relationship secure if you & your boyfriend never become husband & wife?
What Charlotte Lucas considers secure, Emma Woodhouse considers a limitation on her freedom. Emma was against marriage because it couldn’t change her or her situation “for the better”,3 so falling in love seemed a dangerous evil to her.—If her love was returned, it follows that she would have to marry. At the very least, she wants to be in charge of who she falls in love with (“somebody very superior to anyone I have seen yet”). But even Miss Woodhouse falls prey to the expectation of Highbury society that she should marry Frank Churchill—she, if only briefly, believes herself to be in love with him & is excited to show it off to their “joint acquaintance”.4 Showing off may not be the point of love, but it’s certainly one of the perks of marriage, affording women & their families bragging rights. We have to admit that there is a bit of smugness that comes with finishing the race & winning the prize. We even feel this smugness for Emma & Lizzy at the end of their novels, because their marriages put the likes Mrs. Elton & Caroline Bingley in their place.
Yes, Emma & Lizzy do end up married, but it’s because they’re in love (they just happen to fall in love with men who can offer them security). Austen wants us to believe that our heroines have ended up with the right people, that they’ve taken the time to fall in love & secure good matches. Time to fall in love wasn’t a luxury afforded to women & men in the Regency era. If you were lucky, Charlotte Lucas’s idea of love after marriage would work out, but Austen shows us many unhappy examples of marriages made too hastily or for the wrong reasons. But if Austen were writing today, I’m not sure she would see the point of marriage, as it’s now acceptable for couples to be together without this legality. For you SOALP, would marriage change the love you & your boyfriend feel for each other? Or would it only serve as proof that your relationship is successful to everyone else?
From your letter, I’m convinced that you’re preoccupied with your own past, not your boyfriend’s. You’re in love for the first time but can’t shake the feeling that your boyfriend falls into the pattern of men you’ve been with before: Men who have experienced bad breakups or divorces & use these as an excuse not to officially call you their girlfriend. Men who have completed “a major milestone in life with someone else,” as you put it. But I know you see the difference in this man’s character, SOALP. He asked you to be his girlfriend. He said “I love you” (first!). And now you’ve been together for a year.
While you can make peace with the fact that marriage might never be in your future, this man has completed a different “milestone” with a woman who isn’t you.—He has a daughter, & he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to father more children. This weighs on you because you’re not sure whether you should have a child, & it feels like the man you love has made that decision for you. You like to say that this is “the story of my life.” You understand where your boyfriend is coming from, but “understanding doesn’t always feel good.” Yet your question isn’t whether you should stay with your boyfriend (from what I know from your letter, the man sounds worthy of you), but whether romantic love is about more than reaching life’s important milestones together. You want to know if your relationship is going somewhere, &, if so, where.
Perhaps this is why modern criticism of Austen’s work is directed toward her marriage plots. All her heroines’ stories end in marriage to the right partner. And since we all crave plot & narrative structure in our own lives (“where is this going?”), we think we’ve failed if we haven’t hit life’s major plot points. What Austen’s novels show us is that her heroines’ stories weren’t going anywhere until men who could move freely through the world & buy or rent property appeared in their sleepy villages, where women always waited patiently for their fortunes to change. There would be no P&P if Netherfield Park weren’t let at last, or even if Mr. Collins didn’t come to Longbourn intent on selecting a wife from among his 5 beautiful cousins. Would Emma have married Mr. Knightley if Frank Churchill never graced Highbury with his presence? And Anne Elliot, we know, had few romantic prospects at eight-and-twenty until the man she threw over 8 years prior reemerged hotter & richer than ever. Women didn’t always have the means to change or take control of their stories, but Austen encourages us to know our hearts, which is always the greatest source of power we have in this world.
When we know our hearts, we know our story. The story of your life, as you tell it, has been to start relationships with men who can’t or won’t give you what society tells you to want. One day, future SOALP might want marriage, a baby, a house in the country, but you don’t know this future self yet. You do know that you are presently with a man who loves you, & you’re both building a life without any idea of where it will lead. You could continue to tell the story that no man thinks you’re worth the commitment, that your boyfriend is just another man who’s been married before & doesn’t really want a relationship with you. You know this isn’t true;—this man has been open with you about his life. And that life seems a little untraditional to most people.
But his situation doesn’t bother you, as you chose to enter a relationship with a man who has a 4-year-old daughter & is on good terms with her mother. You entered this relationship without a need, intention, or hope of marriage, & still you fell in love—freely. You have the freedom to fall in love with a man for reasons other than marriage & security. And what about your possible future desire to become a mother without his help? A conversation you started & dropped, possibly because his answer was that he needs to think about his daughter & what she would feel. I have 2 thoughts for you to consider on this matter:
1.) You need to talk about what you’re feeling more, because communication is the only way you’ll reach an understanding.
2.) While you think you would be relinquishing your boyfriend from all responsibility, this is a man who takes responsibility.
He loves you, so if you remain & live together, he will become attached to the hypothetical child you might want to have even if it isn’t his responsibility. Your boyfriend doesn’t want to limit your choices & desires, SOALP, but he also doesn’t want to make promises he can’t keep.
Had you met him earlier in life, perhaps your relationship would be more traditional, if not easier. But would you have loved that version of your boyfriend? Would he have loved that version of you? You are in love here & now because of the choices you’ve made, the changes you’ve undergone. Austen’s heroines & heroes never get together until they’ve undergone the kind of transformation only a novel can bring. The man you love is a father who can’t complete some of life’s important milestones with you, but you can both define what the life you share looks like together. And if one day that life is no longer enough for you, you can leave it behind. You have the freedom to choose what your life with this person (or any person) should look like. In 2025, perhaps love should equal freedom. Do you feel free with your boyfriend? If the answer is yes, then maybe that’s been the point of your love all along.
Yours,
Modern Austen <3
If there’s a personal matter you’d like Modern Austen’s advice on, you can send her a message. Please indicate whether you’re comfortable with your letter being published, & do use a clever pseudonym.
Related:
Dear Modern Austen: Can I marry someone for a European visa?
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, (London: Penguin Classics, 1996), pp. 22-23.
Pride and Prejudice, p. 23.
Jane Austen, Emma, (London: Penguin Classics, 1996), p. 82.
Emma, p. 193.