The other day I was sitting in the tiki hut in my front yard reading Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert again. Her follow up to Eat, Pray, Love is a fascinating history on marriage and what it has meant for women over the course of time. But of course, because she’s a fantastic writer, it is also much more. Ms. Gilbert dives in from numerous angles as she attempts to justify her upcoming forced nuptials to the love of her life. The two of them claiming to love each other too much to ever consider marriage find themselves facing deportation if they don’t make their union legal.
It’s undoubtedly a love story and not exactly anti-marriage. (And to be clear, neither am I.) However in summary, she makes a strong argument for why women should pretty much never ever succumb to the institution, or at the very least they should wait until they obtain complete autonomy and pass thirty.
It is my go-to comfort book for reassurance and acknowledgement that I am doing JUST FINE with my current life choice of singlehood on the most remote landmass on the planet.
While I was out there in the hut, the kids I live with were playing around me as they often do and the four year old threw himself onto the cushion next to me. I love how kids have no physical boundaries and think nothing of leaning in on you and climbing over you as if you’re simply an extension of the furniture. He took a look at the author picture on the back of the book and asked if it was me.
I was so instantly pleased to be compared in anyway to someone I admire so greatly, even if only from a four year old who kinda thinks I look like her. And to think someone (anyone!) in this world would think my face belongs on the back of a published book, what joy!
Ha ha. Anyway, this is all just to introduce one of Liz’s latest essays, which I consider to be an important read. I would highly recommend everyone read Committed, but if you’re not in the mood for an entire book, please at the very least check out this nugget of golden bliss: