The Real Deal: Behind Closet Doors

"For a long time I was in love
Not only in love-- I was obsessed
With a friendship that no one else could touch
It didn't work out
I'm covered in shells

And all I wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life
And all I needed was a simple man
So I could be a wife

I'm so ashamed-- I've been so mean
I don't know how it got to this point
Oh I always was the one with all the love 
You came along
I'm hunting you down
Like a sick domestic abuser looking for a fight
And all I wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life

If we met tomorrow for the very first time
Would it start all over again?
Would I try to make you mine?

I always thought I'd be a mom
Sometimes I wish for a mistake
The longer that I wait the more selfish that I get
You seem like you'd be a good dad

Now all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life
How'd I get so faithful to my freedom?
A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life
A simple kind of life..."
                                                    -Gwen Stefani, Simple Kind of Life

We focus so much on these simple things that life, and all the complexities that come with it, inevitably bends us over and gives it to us in the ass. Sans vaseline, Oz style. Bring on the bandages.

I sat here, doing research, reading, listening to music, trying to relax. However after spending some time on the phone, the music suddenly became heavier. Everything got heavier. My shoulders are suddenly strained and hurting, whereas I was originally sitting upright I now hunch over my laptop, my eyes struggle to remain open. And Gwen's beautiful melody (one of my favourites) washed over me. *ahem* > Washed fucking depression all over me. 

Here it is, I thought, something's wrong with me, why am I feeling like this, why am I thinking like this? And Gwen just comes and sings my thoughts right back to me. In a better voice and probably wearing something more vogue than a big orange t-shirt of course. We all grew up wanting these 'simple things.' Husband/wife, children, a nice house, a nice car, money. Comfort.

And in our quest to achieve this comfort we have been slapped silly and hospitalized by reality. Those things aren't simple. Not by a far fucking stretch. Even more so when you add broken fragments of a heart, collected along the way, to the equation. Everything becomes substantially more difficult. The simple things are now the complicated, near inaccessible, things.

Who has successfully overcome that? Who hasn't, in the pursuit of these 'simple things', lost almost, if not just as much as they gained? In this modern society we seem to think that people don't still want these things. That we have "evolved" beyond that conventional old think; women are "independent", men are "bachelors" and the time spent in the club or the bar amounts to more than the time spent at home, with friends or with family. I too have been in denial about the things that I want, the things that I've always wanted, the things that I fight so hard not to want because of what it could mean if it all goes wrong. 

What is left? If we cannot safely harbour the innate desire for these things, and are instead content to live the life of promiscuous bachelors and crazy cat ladies, what is really left for us? I almost despise the fact that I still want these things. The idea of marriage? Husband, kids, the boring routines of parenthood occasionally shaken up by a doctor's visit or pregnancy scare (not another one!), the arguments, the acquired resentment, the struggles, the life. Blah. 

Though I love children, I am (for some strange reason!) very uneasy about having them grow inside of me, give me gas, upset stomach, 20 extra pounds and stretch marks to finally emerge screaming out my vagina. Uh...thanks for the opportunity Mother Nature but I pass for now.

Even if your plan is not to include the husband/wife, the kids, we all still want the money, the nice welcoming house and that car. We all still want this life that allows for the illusion of comfort and simplicity.

I leave you with this: throughout your journey to acquire 'things', is it important to have someone to hug you and tell you sweet lies about the world being a beautiful place, the child with that innocent and adorable version of your face who wets your bed and mispronounces words, the home that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe you should spend more time there? If you can honestly say that these things have never occurred to you, that you have never had the more than occasional longing for them then I say kudos. You are officially a Martian. 

Your closet conventionalist,


Don't be such a goat!