The guest list for my upcoming birthday party includes several couples ranging from 40’s to 60’s, one in their 70’s, a young married couple with their 7 year old daughter, a married gay couple, three single women and a single man; so 7 through 70’s, gay, straight and bi, single and coupled, married and not.
Years ago, when my then husband and I moved to San Francisco from New York City we knew almost nobody. My husband and I, of differing interests, politics and leisure time pursuits, were at a loss as how to find what is now called a social network. We called them friends.
Through our respective jobs we expected to meet and cultivate a few people we both liked, but the process was long and filled with hurdles. I had to like the partner of anyone he produced, he had to get along with the mate of anyone I brought home. If either of us took a liking to a single person, particularly of the other sex, the social arrangements were at best awkward, at worst fraught with perilous misunderstandings. (“Your friend? I thought you were married. Where is your wife?”)
I remember going to a community center for an evening of communication exercises called “New Ways To Meet New People”, a title I have since adopted for a workshop and pamphlet of my own. We were assembled into ever-changing small groups to reminisce about favorite childhood toys or imagine alternate names for ourselves. In one brief sextet all of us approximately of the same age, I mentioned in passing that my husband and I had done something or other.
“How long have you been divorced?” came a sympathetic query.
“I’m not divorced.”
“You’re married?” one of the women gasped.
“Yes,” I answered, wondering what was so remarkable about such a commonplace condition.
“What are you doing here then?” someone else asked in a definitely accusatory tone.
“Meeting some new people. Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”
“But you’re married!” she definitely accused.
“Yeah, “ a man chimed in, “so what do you need to meet anybody else for?”
That made about as much sense to me as “You have a kitchen in your home. Why would you want to go to a restaurant?”
I thought perhaps I recognized the problem. “I’m not looking to cheat, if that’s what you thought. I’m interested in meeting women as well as men…actually, I’m most interested in couples.” My explanation only dug me in deeper. Not only a poacher, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but a greedy pervert!
The 1960’s were the days of Ladies Home Journal-touted togetherness, but you have only to hear today’s commonplace smug boast of “my spouse is my best friend” to realize that the myth of “all you need is each other” is still very much with us. Its thesis is that if all of your needs – sexual, emotional, intellectual, companionate, etc. – are not fully realized within your coupled relationship, something must be wrong with her/him, you or it.
Dangerous horse pucky, I say, and the basis for much disappointment and disillusionment.
It’s marvelously lucky if you continue to enjoy your mate’s company above anyone else’s, but to whom might you complain on those rare occasions when you don’t? We all need friends, and, I believe, friends of both sexes. If you are coupled each of you does, but a couple needs to socialize together as well. When it’s hard enough to find someone you like and whose company you enjoy, how much more difficult it is to find two of them together who also enjoy your partner?
I propose two, perhaps novel solutions to the problem of finding friends as a couple. One, eliminate the Noah’s Ark syndrome and look for individuals (or threesomes, for that matter) with whom you’d like to spend time. Dinner parties no longer need to be seated boy-girl-boy girl – in an even number all around the table. Good conversation is not gender-linked.
Speaking of dinner parties, my second suggestion is to have them. Entertain. Invite people to your home. Even if what is served is store bought pizza and bagged salad. Ask people for tea, or brunch or cocktails. The point is to invite several people, feed them something, and turn them loose to talk to one another and to you and your mate. Ask anyone you know even slightly or your partner does who might be interesting. At the very worst, if he or she doesn’t pan out, someone else there might be captivated. I call that making people soup, a little of this, a little of that. Then, with some luck, at least one or two might invite you in return and thus the circle widens. Somewhere in there might be some people you both like. It’s worth the trouble and expense of some drinks and hors d’oeuvres, I promise.
