Partnership

altered state

I.

For a year now, I've kept a beautifully delicate, loosely knit sweater folded in the front of one of my dresser drawers. Josh gave it to me as a gift on our anniversary, and in the time since he gave it to me, I've worn it once. It's the kind of sweater that's as much a piece of art as an article of clothing—a statement piece to be combined with the right outfit, and prone to snagging if worn to do anything more physically rigorous than drinking a martini.

Early on in parenting, I learned to never wear any clothes that I cared about so long as I was with Ro all day, because I didn't want to put myself in the position of needing to choose between my clothing and my kid's spontaneity. Feeling precious about my clothing continues to feel like an exercise in unnecessary stress.

So I keep the sweater in my dresser drawer, towards the front, where I see it every time I open the drawer to pick out a Parenting Shirt I don't care about ruining. It's like when people keep around a pair of pants that they hope to fit into someday (which, by the way, Marie Kondo totally frowns upon in The Magical Art of Tidying Up)—it's a Someday sweater.

"Someday" feels like a wish that applies to a lot of other things right now. Someday Josh and I will have long conversations again. Someday I'll feel a desire for something other than to be left alone during the intervals when Ro is asleep. I'm deep in a phase of parenting/marriage where all I want is my own time; I would choose reading a book over making out with Josh, no questions, hands down. I resent Josh for stalling me in the bathroom to tell me about his day. I wonder if this is what it means to not be in love with someone anymore. I have literally zero desire to leave my marriage, but also zero desire to make an effort above and beyond parenting our child every day.

I woke up this morning feeling vaguely perturbed—Is this what it means to not be in love anymore?—and about a thousand years old, and rallied to be playful and present with Ro as per usual. I got Ro fed and dressed and ponytailed, and I brushed my teeth and threw on a Parenting Shirt, and I turned around to find myself a belt...

...and and and...

...when I turned back around, I saw that Ro had been hooking her little fingers through the knit of my sweater and pulling the yarn into long, loose, catastrophic loops...

...and everything in me rushed forward yelling, My beautiful marriage is coming apart!!!

II.

It's not true. My marriage is a constant project, and Josh and I both feel pretty clear that we are always in some process of coming apart and coming back together. That's what it means to embark on the foolhardy journey of being committed to each other for a lifetime.

And the sweater is just a thing. A beautiful object that I value. But not a metaphor or symbol.

It might even be repairable, if I spend enough time working on pulling the loops back in. It will never be the same, but I might have just as easily snagged it doing something more physically rigorous than drinking a martini.

What if I reframed this for myself?

I was deeply attached to the beautiful, delicate, original form of this sweater. And I kept it in the front of my drawer so that I would see it every time I picked out a top to wear. And my baby grew into a toddler and, in her curiosity and exploration, put her fingers into the sweater and pulled. Once not too long ago, she was a newborn who wasn't separate from me, and now she can wonder what it would feel like to pull that sweater, and she can find out for herself.

How amazing.

What if I could value this sweater in its altered state? As an artifact of parenting? A form of coming apart in service of something new and maybe necessary?

I'm working on it.

 

ALTERED STATE // an exploration of disinvesting from an object's form