Queercents

So many couples I know are composed of opposites, and I always find Jay’s and my equivalent in other couples we meet. There’s the solid one, like Jay, and the “creative” (less stable?) one, like me.  It usually follows that the more “responsible” one tends to be in an industry that suits that type of personality, often the finance industry.  Hey, if there are any goofy, creative types in the finance industry, please excuse my gross generalization here.

However, let me assert that many of us in our community exaggerate our roles in public. It becomes part of our “routine,” often played for comic effect. In our case, I’m the irresponsible, emotional one; Jay is the stable, rational one. I run around buying incomprehensibly expensive things with wild abandon while Jay plays his role as the shell-shocked, fiscally-conservative spouse. In many ways, it parodies the roles men and women play in heterosexual relationships.

On another level, it mirrors the way in which we assume roles from an early age. It’s been suggested by child development professionals that we purposely assume different strengths and weaknesses as children so that we don’t compete with our siblings, reducing potential conflict and rivalry.  There is certainly a degree of overlap, but direct competition is avoided. (Don’t ask me why I know this. I just retain random info.) Perhaps because same sex couples are composed of individuals of the same sex we have a greater potential for competing in the same space. So we naturally begin to separate our roles and turn up the contrast between our personalities. Butch/Fem. Dominant/Submissive. Saver/Spender. But is anyone really 100% or as polarized as we’re supposed to be? Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve purposely abandoned what I anticipated to be my next posting in this series because of current events and the reader response to my previous post—especially the concept of frugality veiling. I described that as that attempt to appear virtuous by balancing our luxury purchases with seemingly frugal (and futile) gestures. I was delighted that readers identified with that. I’m anticipating you might also identify with the following.

I’ll not so secretly admit to all of you that I’ve always been amused by the whole concept of schadenfreude, which is a German word the describes the delight one feels when witnessing another person’s misfortune.  Wikipedia defines it as “largely anticipated delight in the suffering of another which is cognized as trivial and/or appropriate.” Usually I experience it when someone I don’t like slips and falls in an especially awkward way. I try not to smile—at least visibly. Recently, the whole concept has new relevance and meaning.

You see, my partner, Jay, has been anticipating this for years. While, I made fun of the financial disaster library he created over the past few years with all the books he was reading on deflation and market downturns, I listened to him (he who reads everything like a little information processing machine). He’s in the industry; I’m not. And even I could understand the link between demographics, over-speculation and over-leveraging. I embraced his opinion. I even decorated a room in the country house to accommodate his financial disaster library: the Bear Room (cute, right?). Our friends, though, were strangely closed to his opinions. Read the rest of this entry »

Jay always kids me about how I bounced back and forth above and below my credit limit until my mid-thirties, teetering on the edge of he terms “certain financial collapse.” Yes, I lived beyond my means. But it was my (loveable) little quirk, and its familiarity was comforting (to me). Jay, on the other hand, is different. He is fiscally responsible and cautious. He believes in living below one’s means. He gets finance industry bonuses. He saves them. He’s so weird.

Over time, and with changing circumstances, we both changed. We changed each other. He transitioned from Gap to Gabbana: I stopped overspending (sort of). He started appreciating things, and I started understanding the value of money. His money and my money became our money (sort of). We were able to afford more than just the necessities. We could now buy luxuries. However, neither Jay nor I had grown up what I’d call “comfortable.” Maybe it’s different for those who did. For us, growing into “comfortable” came with a range of discomforts. Here’s what I’ve identified:

The Not-My-Money Dilemma
This surfaced when buying non-essential items for myself. It’s one thing to buy household necessities; it’s another to splurge on oneself with one’s own money. It’s an entirely different matter the first few times you spend income that you, yourself, haven’t earned. On yourself. I found myself asking whether I could truly justify the purchase. After I had—usually by amoritizing the purchase price over several wearings—I snuck the new purchase into the closet (yes, I’m talking clothes) and let it “age” until it seemed as if it had always been there. Read the rest of this entry »

Upon reflection I probably shouldn’t have rearranged my bedroom furniture to the point of structural failure or been so focused on organization and décor, but I think the die was cast when my parents helpfully offered their opinion that I’d make a good housewife someday. A strange thing to say to a nine year old boy, yes, but nevertheless they said it. Strangely, it kind of came true.

Despite my eventual and all-too-long-in-the-making professional accomplishments in the design industry my salary remained a tangible reminder of the disparity between the arts and finance. My compensation remained a fraction of my partner’s finance industry income. But I drew a great deal of satisfaction from my work, and we were building a very nice life together. Actually, it was really nice. As the years progressed my partner became increasingly successful and, hence, busier. At the same time I was starting to get aggravated by my business partners (because they were aggravating) and hate my clients (because they were hateful). On top of that our life was getting increasingly complicated. We were acquiring things that took more time to care for. Not a bad thing, just a fact.

So I left my firm and took on just a few clients. When those projects ended I starting thinking about how the extra time I had made certain things possible—nicer. I had been able to meet with contractors, source goods and services, bring decorating and organization to a new level. That got me thinking that managing our life could become a full-time position. It’s nothing new outside the LGBT community, but what did it mean inside it? Would I be stigmatized? I certainly am not handsome enough to be mistaken for a trophy anything. Well, maybe on a good day. But, seriously, how would I be perceived? What would it feel like to be dependent on my partner? Read the rest of this entry »