Six Years Ago, I Chose Mr. “Good Enough.” Here’s What Transpired

home insemination Kit

As we prepared for our wedding, Mark casually remarked, “Well, we can always get divorced.” I nodded in agreement, as if we were discussing a risky lunch order—easy to send back. His proposal came after an ultimatum and was perhaps the least enthusiastic in history. Even the wife of Anne Boleyn seemed more eager about her marriage than I was.

Mark was a genuinely nice guy. Here’s a glimpse of his character:

When my mother received a stage three colon cancer diagnosis, Mark, who was never comfortable behind the wheel, rented a car and navigated through the Holland Tunnel to West Virginia. He picked up medications, drove us to chemotherapy sessions, and bought us takeout dinners. My parents were living in a post office at the time (a story for another day), and Mark accepted this without a second thought, sitting on stacks of Company Store catalogs, munching sweet potatoes as postal customers occasionally glanced at him with curiosity.

After my mother completed her treatment, Mark and I rented an RV to visit West Virginia since there was no available space for us at the post office. We were joined by some friends for a Memorial Day pig roast, where Mark was less than thrilled—he’s a New Yorker, an insomniac, who prefers Thai food and indie films, not pig roasts or camping.

Returning the RV late on Memorial Day, I scrutinized the rental agreement and noted that the sewage tank valves needed to be left open. This posed no issue since a helpful truck driver had assisted us in emptying the tanks earlier. However, when Mark twisted the valves, a horrifying realization struck—something was spilling onto the pavement. Despite our earlier efforts, we had not fully emptied the tanks.

“The tanks are not empty,” Mark muttered, frustration evident. I peered through the window, imagining the potential fees for leaving a mess behind. Mark grabbed some cardboard from our trunk, attempting to scoop the mess and hurl it into the nearby trees, only to find it ineffective. Resorting to using plastic bags as makeshift gloves, he picked up handfuls and tossed them into the foliage.

As another RV pulled into the lot, Mark raised his bagged hands in defeat, but thankfully, they paid us no mind. He never complained about the pig roast he had no desire to attend, the long drive, or the mess.

“Let’s wash the pavement?” I suggested, locating a hose. Unfortunately, it was too short, and the slope of the lot directed the runoff toward the office door. We abandoned our efforts and returned to our Brooklyn apartment, where Mark dutifully bagged our clothes for washing. He never once grumbled about the pig roast, the drive, or the unpleasant cleanup.

At that time, Lori Gottlieb’s article “Marry Him! The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough” in The Atlantic was making waves, urging women to lower their expectations to avoid loneliness. While I wasn’t directly influenced by her words, the pressure of being 33 and unmarried weighed heavily on me. I decided to solidify what was a decent relationship—we cared for each other, he was intelligent and kind, and he even tackled sewage without a fuss—but it lacked the fundamental desire for marriage and children. Nonetheless, a “fine” relationship felt preferable to none, so I insisted on a proposal.

Our wedding was significantly less enjoyable than the RV adventure. After five months of planning, we finally secured a date to visit City Hall. I felt an odd mix of embarrassment and anger, as if I had won a contest where the other participant had simply let go of the rope.

We married in May and took a two-night honeymoon upstate, which felt about as thrilling as calling an insurance company post-accident. We strolled around a lake, observing birds, while I could only remember the details with a heavy heart, as if reliving a trauma. It was clear Mark was also struggling; he didn’t want to be married to a downcast partner. It was a relief to return home.

Statistics indicate that there’s a shortage of eligible bachelors in the U.S., with 91 men for every 100 women. The commentary surrounding articles like Gottlieb’s often shifts blame onto women, suggesting they seek a man primarily for financial security rather than companionship. This narrative overshadows the reality of modern dating and the challenges of finding a partner who desires a family.

A year after our wedding, we had the difficult conversation we should have had long before. I was overwhelmed with frustration at my own choices, at Mark for not ending things sooner, and at myself for not recognizing the signs. In just a day, he moved back to his apartment, which he had kept for six years, and soon after, we filed for an annulment.

Liberated from the weight of an ill-fated union, I felt a spark of hope for the future. The thought of dating excited me, despite my concern about time slipping away to find someone suitable for starting a family.

One night, I met a man named James at a gathering, who caught my attention immediately. He was charming and engaging. After several dates, he quickly addressed the topic of marriage and children, and we decided to embark on that journey together. We married at 35 and welcomed our first child at 36 and our second at 39. James brings joy to my life every day, proving that the right partnership is worth the wait.

Navigating life with small children has its challenges, especially without nearby family support. Yet, the love and laughter we share make every moment worthwhile. If you’re curious about home insemination, check out this insightful blog post on intracervical insemination. For those considering this path, Make A Mom offers excellent resources. Additionally, Kindbody provides valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination.

In summary, my journey from settling for “good enough” to finding true happiness has taught me the importance of knowing what I want in a partner. It’s crucial to not compromise on your dreams for the sake of settling, as the right relationship will enrich your life in ways you never imagined.