what would your life be like?
I’d be living on New York’s Upper East Side (so we could be close to “Mother”). She would drop by all the time to see “her Gregoire” and I would have dark fantasies about gutting her with an onyx-tipped letter opener. I’d have babies with last names as their first names (Schyler, Parker, Harrison) who had been pre-enrolled in exclusive schools from birth. My husband and I would be very bored and very formal with each other, have sex rarely, and never discuss anything but the children. I’d have a personal trainer and a fantastic wardrobe and ultra-styled and highlighted hair. There would be a live-in nanny. I’d be dabbling in some kind of continuing education, mostly as an excuse to get out of the house and escape the crushing boredom of my life. I’d have a reputation for throwing excellent parties for all his friends who have last names as first names - Stuyvesant, Becker, Phillips. I’d also make sure to invite some interesting artsy people for “flair” and hire unconventional musicians and florists.
I’d be on at least one antidepressant and probably abuse some prescription drugs or develop a coke habit, and have a reputation behind my husband’s back for fucking anything in pants. In my mid-thirties I’d have a nervous breakdown and take off to “find myself”- one can only hope that would involve publishing a trashy bestseller and getting involved with a turbulent South American artist and having lots of sex in his studio after which he’d paint me and ask me to run away with him. He’d brood and throw things when I refused, and I’d leave him for some chainsmoking bass player with dark hair and light green eyes. After the divorce I’d buy a cottage in some remote seaside area and have the children down on weekends away from school and try to write some more and discover yoga and soy products and kick the prescription drug habit.
So yeah, that’s how my life would have been. Anyone else?
P.S. I know some of you did marry the first person you had sex with. Therefore your assignment is to tell us what your life would be like if you’d married the first person you ever kissed.
She’d probably just be getting out of jail now for bigamy.
Depends. If you mean the first person I had a vaguely sexual experience that included a lot of awkwardness and weird fumbling and sort of counted as sex until I knew better, there is no telling. We would have been divorced in six months, tops.
If you mean the first person I had actual, honest to gosh sex with, well I wonder that myself, all the time.
Boy, you knew a lot more about your first than I did. There really wasn’t any danger of marriage happening afterwards, but if I’d married my first real boyfriend, I’m pretty sure I’d weigh about four hundred pounds, have a teenager, and probably have spent some time in jail for spousal murder.
One of us would be dead by now.
I’d have been divorced a looooong time ago.
I wouldn’t be here. I’d be at home, with a black eye, raising our five children putting “being a good wife” ahead of “artistic expression”.
Or, I’d have killed myself.
Ah…when I was seventeen, it was a very good year.
If you mean sexual intercourse with then I’d be married with two kids, working on Long Island, extremely happy with the choices I’d made.
I’m a freak, right.
Biggirl, I’m happy for your choices too! And mine, because I chose not to marry that uptight freakshow son of a Dragon Lady.
Keep the stories coming, people! Details! Details!
If she kept on pinching me the way she did, we’d be divorced. Probably within 1 year.
If we had kids, they would have been interesting as I was over 1 foot taller than her. Maybe the kids would have been normal.
We’d have 12 kids, live in a run down trailer park, he’d be in jail most of the time. I would have had to apply for welfare, and probably have a couple of black eyes. When he wasn’t in jail, he be off hunting with his jail buddies. I would have turned to booze, and wear nothing but house dresses 99% of the time.
Good question! Well considering that he thinks he’s in love with one of my very good friends, I think we wouldn’t have lasted long at all. Although his motorcycle would have been fun when he had it.
Hmph. I’d probably be in therapy, from dealing with a wife who liked women way more than men. I was her first male lover, and lasted off and on for about three years. In that same time she also had different four girlfriends. Stressful relationship. Fun, but hurtful too.
Let me expand on this, now that I think back on the nightmare.
I wouldn’t be living in Chicago because “Chicago sucks worse than any city ever”. I’d be dying of lung cancer because I was married to a three pack a day smoker. I’d never be writing because my writing is “formulaic crap that you can read anywhere”. I’d be quiet, depressed, separated from my family which “holds me down”. I’d be devoid of spirituality of any sort because “in his family there is no use for God.”
I’d be unhealthy, alcoholic, bleach blonde, fake nails…but this wouldn’t matter really because “he doesn’t want a beautiful woman, he wants me” :rolleyes:
But there are two things that would be nice: I’d have an intensely German family with a great German last name and tons of money.
And I’d be getting my bdsm proclivities well taken care of.
Doesn’t seem like an even trade.
I’d be divorced, or spending time in jail for homicide.
I don’t know what possessed me… I look at him now and think “Yuck”. He’s arrogant, and filled with a sense of self-importance that’s completely unjustified. I’d be working my butt off to support him, and he’d expect me to upgrade his computer every twelve months to a ridiculous standard. He would justify this because he is at Uni, but this would just be an excuse. He isn’t a good worker, he won’t take directions from others because he is convinced that he knows everything, and he seems to aspire to be a professional student. On the other hand, his father would hire me, like he has hired all his other children and their spouses.
I’d be renting a house. I would own a block of land for more than five years before I could afford to build on it. The land would be down the far end of town, which likes to flatter itself as being “exclusive”, but is really just remote. This wouldn’t worry me because I wouldn’t use public transport - I would have been forced to learn to drive before I was ready because his disability prevents him from driving. He would expect me to spend money I couldn’t really afford on a car that he could brag to his friends about (despite never actually being able to drive it himself).
I would have to resist the desire to punch him in the head when he got on his high horse about anything. He is never right about anything, and he will not listen to anyone else when they try to argue with him. I couldn’t stand it.
At one point in time, we would pack all our china into cupboards, and use only disposable plates and cutlery because we hate dishes. Our friends would give us so much grief about this that we would eventually surrender and get the china back out. (I couldn’t believe it when he and his partner did this!!).
Oh, and judging by his daughter with his current fiancee, I’d have given my children names that would serve them well if they pursued a career in the pornography industry. I do have a feeling that the name was her choice, not his. He may be a jerk, but he’s not imaginative.
Undoubtedly divorced… he’s gone thru 2 wives last I heard, and he was SUCH a mama’s boy. I thought his mom was great, but he was a weenie. Then again, I was 19 and naive, so I guess I thought I was in love, and he was a good kisser.
Turns out my husband was worth waiting for…
What, nobody would be living in a sheet-metal shack with their very “professional” spouse in downtown Bangkok?
[sub](not that I would either of course:p)[/sub]
I think maybe the more interesting question might be where he would be. I’ve always been so bound and determined to do exactly what I’m doing that I’d have dragged him along, er, just like I dragged my actual husband, come to think of it. I might not be here because there aren’t any career opportunities here for someone in his field (zoology) but we’d probably be somewhere similar.
My mother would be delighted with him (she always loved him, even when we were snot-nosed teenagers!) rather than a bit lukewarm as she is with my actual husband.
And, well, my first beau has had some emotional problems, even though his actual wife is the sweetest, nicest, most patient person I know, so I wonder how I would have coped with it or exacerbated the situation.
If I’d married the first person I’d ever had sex with, I think I’d be expecting to get turned down for my third parole review right about now.
I’d be married for about 7 years, have 3 kids, and have a decent house in a decent neighborhood. I’d be working as a Web page technician and be performing close-up magic in my spare time.
Oh, wait. That’s what I’m doing now!
(Yes, I married the woman I first had sex with, and she is WONDERFUL!)