Letter to My Son’s Father When He Asked What It Would Take to Marry Me

In 2005, when my son was nearly twelve, his father, who had been unreliable and largely absent, asked what it would take to marry me. I no longer remember what prompted the question. He hadn’t wanted to marry me before. The following was my answer.

Dear Darren,

You asked what it would take to marry me.

First, there must be peace in my home. I believe couples should make their home an oasis for each other. The world is tough enough. Home should be comforting.

There can be no drama. Our son has enough dramatic qualities for all three of us.

Drama comes when there is no trust. I have to trust that my husband has my back in every situation. That requires a faithfulness that goes behond sexual. We should be able to trust one another enough to have platonic friends, without having to worry. We should also be there for each other when no one else is.

There cannot be lies of any kind — commision or omission. Privacy and personal boundaries should never require lies.

I want a spiritual connection. This includes sexually. Love-making can take many forms, but I want spiritual connection there as a base.

I want a man who loves me. That should be obvious, but apparently it isn’t. I have spent my life developing myself mentally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and physically. I would hope you would have done the same.

I want my husband to appreciate my effort and the results. I am an amazing woman, who would rather be alone than with someone who doesn’t think that I am, and who doesn’t genuinely love me.

When we make love, I want to feel that my man is fully present. There is nothing lonelier than sex that feels isolating.

I’ve come a long way since our son was born. I have further to go. I plan to write and conduct seminars more. I plan to become more financially secure. I want a man who will contribute to that, and supports my goals. You already know how supportive I am.

The saying is “I can do bad all by myself.” I can do good all by myself, too. However, if I had a husband to help relieve the financial responsibility, I could truly fly. Our son could fly, too.

I want a man who loves my son, and shows it by wanting the best for him. As a parent, in spite of my big mistakes, I am vigilant about imparting only good things to my son. I am vigilant about my own failings and I correct them, and apologize to him for them, as soon as possible. I refuse to let my own weaknesses, prejudices, denials, cynicisms, or anything else negative be part of my legacy to my son. I expect my husband to do the same.

Stephon told me when he left me, “Carol, you back me into a corner and hold a mirror up to me, and I can’t stand to look into it.”

I do the same thing to myself, and force myself to look, so I can be as clear as possible with my son. I have relationship and financial fears and failings that I am working to change, and I want my man to do the same with his fears and failings.

Finally, I want action, not just talk. I have fallen too often for sweet words and a man’s potential. The only potential I care about now is my child’s potential. Grown men don’t have “potential” and I can’t fix anyone but myself.

In total, I want a grown man who walks the walk he talks.

With love and a clear mind,

Carol

P.S. to my readers. We didn’t get married.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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