The first time Johann made me dinner – a real dinner, one that involved a recipe and fresh herbs – there was a lot to talk about. Our conversation followed the path it always does when someone makes an effort: you compliment them on how good the meal tastes, you praise the substitutions they made, you offer wild claims about the meal you will cook in return. In my case, scrambled eggs.
We talked about bigger things too. It was over a year ago, which means that I was always coming from one place and heading to another. No doubt I had tales to tell, about world-class art museums and the temperature of the Aegean Sea, as compared to other, lesser-known seas. There was a story about the cab driver in Serbia who ripped me off $80 and a different cab driver in Serbia who swore at me for walking in the bike lane – this because he was driving in the bike lane. Taxi drivers have always been good for small talk.
The next time Johann made the same dish, it was Valentine’s Day and we had been dating for about a year. Naturally, we talked about that – our year of firsts. Trips and holidays and all things good. We talked about the meal too, even though it was exactly the same as it was before. Still, we ran the conversation on a loop. Tell me again: How do you make this? Where is the recipe from? It calls for rice?! Well I agree – I much prefer it with bread.
Last week, when Johann made the dish for the third time, things had changed. He and I sat down and unceremoniously began shoveling the food into our faces. It was delicious. We knew this because we said it many times before. By now, we both knew how to make it even if only one of us ever actually did so. We laughed about the rice and then retreated into quiet contentment.
Truth be told, I didn’t have much else to say. I had already burned through all my stories from Madrid – about the famous paintings that are probably fakes, the springtime weather, a competitive analysis with Barcelona that no one asked for. I was planning a trip to Amsterdam, but Johann had been there before – too long ago to offer me any recommendations but recent enough to not want to hear about my itinerary. I suppose we could have talked about something else: the chapter I worked on that morning, how I destroyed yet another potholder with our espresso pot, the museum visit he made across town. But we didn’t and there are two ways to read that: either we are comfortable with the silence, or we have nothing left to say.
I like to think that it’s the former. And I have good reason to believe that I am right. Finnish people are notoriously quiet. They often boast of their ability to go hours, even entire days, without speaking to a single person. Many of Johann’s friends have explained this cultural phenomenon to me. In some cases, it’s the longest I’ve ever heard the other person speak.
I, on the other hand, can be a chatterbox. Or at least I seem that way by comparison. I am all stories and jokes, a low-budget entertainer who got a bad haircut and wants you to hear all about it. I have been to Fiji on a whim. I once took classes in circus arts. I saw a shark, up close and personal in Australia. I speak until I get the impression that everyone else would rather that I didn’t.
But I’m also a person who lived alone for a decade and traveled solo for the past two years. I enjoy solitude as much as a Finn. I miss it sometimes, like when Johann and I settle down on our two-seat sofa in our 30-square meter apartment to eat our dinner. I could tell that we would both like some alone time. We look for it everywhere, even in our soup bowls.
When we first started dating, Johann and I used to do the mini NYT crossword puzzle every morning. I marveled at his English – his fourth language, the one he mastered so completely that he could play word games in it. He didn’t know all the answers right away, but he could get most of them after a few hints.
In time, with practice, Johann got better. He started doing the puzzles on his own while I was out of town. Eventually, it wasn’t a challenge for him to do them as a team and it never had been for me. So we started doing them separately: his goal being to solve them without my help and mine to complete them in under a minute.
“I can’t get the puzzle today,” he told me one morning last week.
I looked over his shoulder. Five down: Ice, slangly. “You know that one,” I said.
He shrugged. “Cubes?” he asked.
“No… When you order a drink at a bar,” I hinted. “You order it – on the what?”
“On the… cools?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, smiling. “That’s adorable, but no.”
It’s on the rocks. He got that a few seconds later. And I don’t think our relationship is heading there just because we’re doing away with our morning rituals, but I didn’t appreciate the coincidence. Sometimes I wonder if that’s where we’ll end up. If this is, as people say, how it starts.
I don’t know if the problem is that Johann and I have nothing to talk about, so much as we have nothing big to talk about. Unlike most couples in their 30s, we are not thinking about adopting a pet, or getting engaged, or buying a house. We have never discussed children but for the many times I have announced, usually unprompted, that I don’t intend to have any. These topics, the markings of adulthood, dominate the lives of our peers. They are the subject of conversation morning, noon and night. If taken off the table, I wonder what everyone else might talk about. If they too would theorize on paintings in Madrid.
I have been told, many times, that my tune will change when I meet the right person. Those people mean well but they are wrong. I don’t want to talk about centerpieces or real estate any more today than I did five years ago. For me, all those topics are still very much ‘on the cools.’
Instead, I am pouring my energy into writing a memoir. I want a book deal like most women my age want a baby or, if they already have one of those, a nap.
The past few months, my writing has been going better, which is not the same as saying that its’s going well, but it’s progress and I’ll take it. My apartment in Munich – a two-room attic affair located across the street from a cemetery – is precisely the kind of place where one should go to write a book. It is quiet and isolated, bright and sunny. There is a Nespresso machine and a shop that sells $6 bottles of wine downstairs. The TV stations are broadcast only in German.
Our studio in Helsinki, on the other hand, is scarcely a good place to read a book. To live in a one-room apartment as a couple is to agree to do most everything together: eat, sleep, work. Even with the best of intentions, it is impossible for one person to do anything at all and not to be completely disruptive to the other. To wake up early and so much as type is to be a dick.
I’ll admit it: Sometimes I’m a real dick.
Years ago, I saw a video clip from the BBC. A man was doing an interview about South Korean politics when his daughter marches through the door like a little band conductor. She pushes her way into the frame, knocking a stack of books from atop a twin bed to the hardwood floor. All the while her father does his best to remain focused on the interview or, put another way, to ignore her completely.
That child is exactly how Johann looks to me when he comes in after class or work and I am still in the middle of writing. He is all pep and zip: What’s up and how are you? How was your day? Do you want a coffee? How hungry are you?
Except I am not like the father. I do not display even half the patience of the man whose career is being destroyed on national television. I shush Johann. I put on headphones. I try to pick up where I left off but I can’t and so I get huffy about it. I accept the coffee and remind myself that I love him.
That alone should be evidence enough that I am not meant for marriage or motherhood – that I am, quite possibly, not well-suited for cohabitation. But people keep trying to convince me otherwise.
These behaviors of mine are cause for concern – not for me or even Johann, but for other people. People who have no reason whatsoever to concern themselves, but feel it is their duty to get involved. To explain time and biology to me. To point out my personality flaws and personal shortcomings. To say the things that they believe Johann is too kind and good to mention. They’ve met him once, or not at all, so I guess they know.
They lecture me against spending too much time alone, about traveling on my own, about holing up in Munich and trying to write a book. Those might have been perfectly acceptable things to do in the past, but not now. Johann is in the picture now and I need to get my head in the game.
They are horrified to learn that when Johann comes home, I don’t stop what I’m doing and give him my full attention. They recommend that I wrestle my way back into the crossword puzzles and dinnertime conversation before it is too late. They ask me to consider compromising on weddings, house hunting and children – you know, the little things – because I might regret it one day. They warn me that he may leave me if I don’t.
They may be right. I’m willing to admit that. But I’m not willing to do what they say. Not when it comes at the expense of my goals. Not when it means I have to compromise my ambition. Not if it means I have to give up on the things I always wanted.
I don’t know where people get off asking me to change anyway. The way I see it, I’ve already done enough. I gave up the lifestyle I loved; I doubled down on a job that I don’t enjoy; I travel back and forth to Finland, month after month, at great expense and inconvenience to me. I’ve sunk hours into visas and residence permits and paperwork of all kinds. I have opened new bank accounts, changed my phone number, found a new apartment, switched accountants, doctors and 401k providers. I have given up 30 percent of my salary to do the exact same job because that’s the going rate when someone wants to make a “personal move.”
And still I am told I need to do more. That I should consider the feelings of my boyfriend, ones that he has not bothered to express to me. That, yes, in fact, it is too much for me to want a few hours to myself. That there is no guarantee that my writing will pay off, and so it seems silly to waste time on it now when I could do it later, say in my 50s. I am given threats and ultimatums disguised as friendly advice by people who mean well but don’t understand my motives or Johann’s.
For the record, Johann has never asked me to reallocate my time or reprioritize my goals. He has never suggested that I reconsider my thoughts on marriage, children and the nomadic life. I doubt he ever will. We covered all that already, way back when during the first real dinner. Besides, he knows which path I’d pick. He knows how I’d look walking through that door, all bounce and glee. Pep and zip. Piss and vinegar.
My husband and I have been married nearly 50 years (yeah, yeah, I know)–what could have been a sticking point is that both of us, while very different, are only children.
And it works. We both need huge blobs of space around ourselves, and never resent that in the other. If he wants to work in the woods all morning and I don’t, that’s cool. If I want to spend all day in the garden, he might come out to see what’s going on, but that’s my space, and that’s cool too.
What Im saying is, to hell with people who tell you what you need, what you should be doing, what Johann needs from you. You’re big girl. He’s a grown up too. You both have very different temperaments, and if it works for you, it works.
And it’s obvious that trying to spend too much time under the same small roof is not good. If you work best alone, in your own place, so be it. And neither of you has to worry about disturbing the other.
Do what suits you, Nova.
50?! Phew. That’s impressive.
But yes, I don’t much care for hearing other people’s opinions about a lot of things – not the least of which being Johann’s hypothetical feelings. These comments are insulting to me, but they’re also to him in a way… it’s like saying he’s not capable of speaking his mind so they have to do it for him. It’s hilarious, actually, once it stops being infuriating.
I do agree that we will need some more space eventually, but for now, I can deal with what we have. I will, as you say, do what suits me… and encourage Johann to do the same.
Me and mine have lived together for the past 20 years. Yes, it seems unthinkable. But while we live together, we still maintain our own time, and yes, while we do a great many things together, we also do any number of things separately from one another.
It’s the best way to make a relationship work for any length of time.
Agree! For me, I would say it’s the only way to make a relationship work. I’ll see if I can say that 19 years from now :)
Hm yes. I can relate somewhat! I’m turning 30 this year, and you wouldn’t believe (actually you probably would believe) how often people think they need to suggest life changes for me, usually in the realm of marriage, houses, kids.
I think that as long as you (and Johann too, separately) are happy where you’re at, you’re doing a-okay. Something I often try to remind myself of is that as long as I’m comfortable and happy, I have no responsibility to have to explain that to other people, but it still irks me that some people expect me to.
We have a weird little society now, that we’re expected to focus all our attention on the future, rather than the here and now. How can we be happy if we have no future plans for bigger and better things?? How can we have a happy relationship if we don’t plan on moving in together/getting married/buying a house/getting a dog/having a baby? I find it pretty annoying, frankly, and clearly so do you, haha.
Oh dear… if your 30 is anything like mine, then it will be a struggle. Not for you, but for the people around you. They have concerns and you must share them. :) It doesn’t sound like you need any advice about how to sidestep those questions – and good for you. Enjoy the here and now… plan for the things you want to do… and let everyone else spin their wheels.
For what it’s worth, my 30s were WAY WAY WAY more enjoyable than my 20s. I hope you are about to kick off a decade that is even more awesome.
I’m with you–personal space and time to travel are top priorities; kids are nowhere on my list. It wears on me to have those conversations over and over, with people who really have no stakes in my game. But, on the other hand, it seems like there are more and more of us, and people are starting to get used to the idea that a woman may want to come up with her own goals and life plans. Your adventures and your words consistently inspire me. :) Thank you, Nova.
You are correct! I meet so many women who reject the storyline we were sold as girls… There are also some who are open to the idea, but not totally sure. And there are some who interested but not in any rush. There are no wrong answers anymore and a lot of people are coming around to that. I’m glad. But it’s one of those things that people seem to understand in theory, but not in practice. Or maybe, more like they get the concept but not when applied to the people they know. Not getting married or having children is fine, but not when we’re talking about my son/daughter/best friend/whomever. All well and good – everyone needs a reality check every now and then. But as you say, it gets tiring when it happens over and over. And it’s not fair coming from people with “no stakes in the game.”
People attack what they don’t understand. As soon as someone chooses a lifestyle that’s different to theirs, they have to convince themselves that it is wrong – because if it isn’t, then maybe theirs is the wrong one? Too many people have yet to learn that we are all different, and that we can choose our own life.
The thing is: Johann fell in love with YOU: the adventurous, solo-travelling, independent woman you are. I don’t think he expects you to change everything about you. If he’d like someone to buy houses and have children with, he would have chosen someone else.
Besides, there is no manual on a relationship. We don’t live in the 50s, for God’s sake, where we have to fawn over our man and make polite dinner conversation!
Don’t change yourself. Keep doing you, if it works, great – and if not, it was never meant to be.
I am THRILLED to hear that you’re writing a memoir! You better believe I’ll be the first one in line to buy a copy! Keep writing, keep doing you, and ignore the naysayers.
I have a quote next to my desk by Lisa Kleypas, and I look at it often:
“A long time ago I learned not to explain things to people.
It misleads them into thinking they’re entitled to know everything I do.”
So in some cases, I think you’re right. There is an element of fear in what people are saying… some are probably projecting. But there are also people who I think just don’t want me to “miss out.” It’s well intentioned… but irritating none the less, especially when it comes up over and over again.
But you are 100% right about Johann! He met me at my best and I never once suggested that I want to be anything less than that in the future. It’s a win for both of us… until it’s not. He can change is mind any time he likes.
I like that quote… I feel like I’ve read it before in your newsletter :) It’s a keeper.
Hi Nova,
This nosiness/rudeness happens in later years as well. I did the whole marriage/kids/house thing for 30 years and then got divorced(my choice and what was good for me). I constantly have single friends/coworkers telling me that I need to date… you know, get out there. But then they subject me to their dating horror stories and don’t understand when I say “Why, as your friend, would you want me to subject myself to that? Accept that I am perfectly fine as I am. I’m not lonely, I do what I want, when I want.” Ugh.
I recently came across a quote from Neil DeGrasse Tyson “I am under no obligation to make sense to you”. I have it on a sticky note on my computer at work and on my fridge at home. I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity to actually say it to someone!
I truly look forward to each of your posts on this blog and am excited to hear you are writing a book. Can’t wait to read it!
ha – I know, I know. I get the impression that it never ends. There’s something about single women that attracts unsolicited advice, no matter our age. I used to like when people would tell me to “get out there more,” when it comes to dating. Then, if was on a online dating binge, the same people would sometimes tell me to “be more selective.” eventually I just told people to keep their tips and advice and strategies to themselves. when it comes to dating, it really only “works out right” once or twice. the rest all goes in the same bucket of “experience”
anyway – good for you for doing what you wish. I agree that if you’re happy as you are, there’s no need to go searching for something you don’t want. If you change your mind later, so be it. no harm in that.
I love Neil Degrease Tyson. is he single? sounds like it.
A surefire way to make you and Johann miserable is to stop being yourself. And add me to the chorus who’re delighted you’re writing a memoir.
I’m studying at the moment, so my partner and I spend lots of evenings sitting close to each other while I work on my laptop and he reads or watches stuff on his. Every now and then I surface and stroke his knee, or he laughs at something online and shows it to me. It’s a pretty comfortable silence.
If that kind of thing works for you two, keep it up.
I agree! Someone else said as much too and you’re both right… this is how we met. this is how he knows me. why would I suddenly do a domestic 180? if I did, does anyone really think it would last?
Enjoy your silence. I will do the same. thanks so much for reading :)
You’re such a great writer and I love reading your stories — I also always appreciates those who share more vulnerable stories. I do have to ask; does Johann read your blog?
aw – thank you! so yes, Johann does read my blog, but casually. I give him a courtesy head’s up if I’m writing about him and nothing I say should be a surprise. for example, I definitely showed him the BBC clip before and told him this is how it feels when I’m working and he comes home. One day last week, while I was writing this post, he walked in wearing sunglasses and a scarf chanting “coff-ee, coff-ee, coff-ee!” I was like, “You’re making this one very easy for me.” I find it refreshing that he doesn’t show that much interest in what I do online… I’m sure you’ve met your fair share of men who seem to be kind of auditioning. So many times I was on dates in the past and the guy had volunteered, “You can write that down.” he doesn’t work that way and it’s a relief… although I will admit sometimes I troll him and he’s getting better at sniffing me out. he knew, for example, not to get in a conversation I started about wolf sticks.
ANYWAY – thanks for reading. glad to see you’re settling in to the new place well. looks super cute, just like you guys.
ugh I used to hate the stupid “don’t blog about me!” comments that translated to PLEASE BLOG ABOUT ME. go away. leo isn’t safe though; i write about him often. lol
Well, you know, they signed up for it. If they don’t want to be written about, they should stop being so damn adorable.
Oh man, I have a lot of feelings about this subject. My husband and I have taken a fairly non-traditional route through life (other than getting married and having a dog), and we’re both happy with where we are. I especially have not conformed to society’s expectations for a woman – outspoken, independent, kids are a flat nope – and refuse to feel bad about it.
And I don’t we would still be together after 25 years if we weren’t honest with each other about what we want from life, or tried to change ourselves based on what other people think is “right.” We’re comfortable in our silences, support each other in our individual ambitions, and while we’re fine spending the majority of our time together, respect the fact that we also need time alone.
It can be frustrating to be told how you “should” be living your life, but think how miserable you would probably be if you actually listened. :-)
good for you. I like a lady who knows what she wants and doesn’t apologise for it. like so many people said earlier, there’s no reason to change that… if you’re happy, that’s what most important. and if someone loves you the way you are, that’s the best you can hope for. should we all compromise sometimes… be more polite… try to be more thoughtful. sure. but for me that’s about running to the store when the other person is busy, not giving up on a life goal.
anyway – this is definitely how I should be living my life. I know that. everyone else can offer comments, but they’ll be going straight to blog fodder from here on out :)
“On the cools” is my new favorite expression. My reaction on reading this post is, who are all these people giving unasked for opinions? But then I remember that I come from a family of overly polite introverts who would never want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and that most of my friends are also introverts at heart and that other people have different experiences.
The other thought that occurs is that to share is to invite comment and I for one have really appreciated your willingness to share so many details of your life. For those all those finger-wagging do gooders who think you don’t understand basic math and biology, there are also those of us quietly cheering on your life from the sidelines and grateful for the peek at might have beens and paths that wouldn’t have occurred to me.
My spouse and I are coming up on 20 years and both feel lucky that we knew from the beginning that we wanted kids and are fortunate that far more than not, we enjoy being parents. Mind you when we had all 3 under age 6, and 2 of those in diapers and somehow *all* of my friends were going to Paris it wasn’t the most thrilling.
I think that you are doing what most happy people do, embrace the path you have chosen, and find all the fun and joy in it you can.
Thanks for sharing your adventure and your humor!
I love “on the cools” too. I really do.
So… I’m happy to hear that there’s some healthy skepticism around who “all these people” are… but one need only scroll through these comments and see that I am not alone. That doesn’t surprise me, but it saddens me. I will admit that there’s sort of a “composite” element to my complaining… no one really says A and B and C, so much as three different people say one thing. I don’t think it’s totally unfair to present it as one general example because that’s how I receive it: an onslaught of good intentions.
I’m glad that your experience is different. That your circle has trusted your judgment makes me happy. I do wonder, though, if that would change at all if you deviated from the expected… if you decided, let’s say to have eight children instead of 3. If people would pipe up or not. I hope not.
Anyway, you are right… to share is to invite comment. Also, not for nothing, the blog is literally organised around my retroactive need for advice. I shouldn’t really fault anyone for putting it out there… and giving me free material.
And yes – it’s important to embrace the path we’re on… three kids, Paris, wherever it may take you.
I more meant “who are all these people?” to mean “how do they get the nerve!?” and not to question your veracity. I think I wrote poorly there.
All good! I knew the question was hypothetical, I was just using it as an opportunity to answer for real. I don’t know where they get the nerve… so I can’t even attempt that one :)
Loving the pictures and your life! You are happy and that is what counts! Who cares what others may think “life is what you make it” and yours is YOU! Enjoy to the fullest and be safe.
Thanks Voula – appreciate it!
Im also thinking that there may be a certain amount of well-hidden resentment in people who are married (and you’re not), who are settled down with two kids and a dog (and you’re not) and you are TRAVELING and you have a BOYFRIEND and they don’t.
So they want you to ditch all that stuff and become just like them. So they can feel superior. Or something.
It’s your life, not theirs. Your choices, not theirs. Enjoy.