“All the Loves in the World” or Normalizing to Expose One's Intimate/Mahrem Life

I have never associated marriage with romance, not even as a girl-child, but always believed in love. In fact, some of my college friends used to analyze me that I was probably in love with the concept of love itself since I came back with romantic stories after each summer. As a student of literature, I was exposed to some of the best expressions of love ever documented in different genres, and I feel enriched by, and remain proud of that.

When I fell in love with a Vermonter in the heart of Istanbul in 1999, my first response was to flee. I was only 25 and life was just beginning. I wouldn’t let the illusions of love ruin it. There were also some major complications. The Turkish society’s utmost pressure on guarding one’s mahrem (privacy) prevents me from going into details here.

I turned 45 last December. In retrospect, I am glad that despite the fact that I literally fled the country thanks to a prestigious graduate grant in women’s studies by the German Government, he followed me. I shake my head now to the immature woman who rehearsed farewell speeches more than once. He listened patiently, and told me that our love was too precious to quit due to fears of commitment. Instead, he quit his academic position, packed his suitcase and bicycle before taking the plane to Kassel roughly one month after my departure. He was 33, a nomad in heart and soul, a good lover with a fit body and writing skills, plus a degree in English Literature. He too was familiar with the best expressions of love and romance in English.

My first visit to the U.S. was to meet his family and celebrate a white Christmas. I still joke that Scott took advantage of my first jetlag when he pulled in at a mysterious parking lot in a small town Vermont whose name I fail to remember after 20 years. I assumed the building we began walking towards was a small museum, and I was confused when he asked me if I had my passport. I nodded. Better to carry it 24/7 in this wild country whose images I acquired only from the movies and literature, and those didn’t assure me of much safety or comfort. Who knows what could happen in the middle of nowhere in Vermont during a Christmas break? The answer was… Well, one could end up getting married!

I cannot recall whether I was asked for my hand in any traditional manner. Surely, that would have been already a big turnoff. I vaguely remember that he told me getting married this way would be less scary for me since the time between the proposal and “I do” part was about 10 minutes. I wouldn’t be in my right mind to give it a second thought. Or any thought for that matter. I later learned that Scott checked the state-specific requirements and VT was indeed among the quickest road to tie the knot and competes with Vegas! Otherwise he would have chosen NYC where his oldest friend was living. We went there for the New Year’s Eve.

I had no intentions of getting married only after one year of dating, and five months of cohabitation. Did I mention that I was jetlag? By that time, my parents stopped talking to me for transgressing the rules of the society although our cohabitation took place in Germany. My brother was our only liaison and wasn’t sure what to do about this tension over the cohabitation issue. He was only 20, and never judged me or asked questions about my love. After several cohabitations and partners, he has managed to remain single up until now. Coolest Turkish brother ever! He too is Sagittarius like Scott and I, so blame astrological signs if you like.

Once we got married and settled into the reality of it, that is, a piece of paper with names and signatures announcing us ‘married’, my panic subsided. We were very much in love and the best would be to deny the marriage thing (I thought) which doesn’t make sense now since they are not closely related to each other in the first place. We had no plans of settling in anywhere soon. After my parents and the society were off our shoulders due to the marriage license from Vermont, we moved to Turkey: I went to grad school in Ankara, he rented a place in Alanya and began to run a bike shop. We lived apart except holidays until we moved to Toronto for my PhD studies in 2002. Thus, marriage didn’t and doesn’t necessarily mean cohabitation. It took us some time to get a wedding ring, and I lost two in 20 years.

All these came back to me on a Sunday in July 2019 after touring the Borusan Contemporary Art Collection (its spectacular claret red building is known as the Haunted Mansion) in Istanbul. I was so moved by some of the pieces, particularly the new forms of experiencing TurgutUyar, one of the most important representatives of Modern Turkish poetry, that I needed time alone at the museum café after my young friend left. Almost all tables offered some breathtaking scenery of the sea and the ferries crossing the Bosporus but I had my eye on a particular spot for my afternoon coffee.

The waiter was talkative and flirtatious when he told me that the table was reserved by a guy who was about to pop the question to his girlfriend. He sure was going to have fun with the scene so why didn’t I join the audience? I shook my head that told him that this must have been a new trend of the Facebook or Instagram people who no longer care about mahrem. The waiter agreed and made faces about the couple’s friends right across the street. They were ready with a “Please say yes!” banner and would be cheering and taking pictures during this performance. I wondered if any of them knew about the exhibition inside entitled “Söylenir ve yarım kalır bütün aşklaryeryüzünde/All the loves in the world are uttered and unfinished” or Turgut Uyar. The museum manual in my sweaty hands explained the choice for these famous lines: “In our day, the rapidly changing economic, political and social developments have a profound impact on the creation processes of artworks.”

I thought “on the processes of loveworks too!” I feel sort of proud with the fact that “in our day” I have refused to become part of these so called developments and would be embarrassed if not angry to see myself on FB or Instagram after a marriage proposal. My questioning will continue as my own (old) friends and (former) students keep becoming part of these processes of “romantic love” constructions and its links to the institution of marriage. Somewhere along our socialization as humans, some ridiculous expectations and performances are created and marketed in such powerful ways that many people cannot dare to step out of them. Doesn’t honesty feel blocked as the couples are trying to keep up with these changes as they face the risk of estrangement while performing and wasting their savings on the processes? Behind their back, a waiter and an academic may be teasing them as we did on that Sunday, and I am sure we were not the only ones. However, we are too polite to say anything “at-yer-face” style.

After all these years and traveling, I am still the only person in my circle of friends and family who got married secretly and without giving it much thought. The irony of the Haunted Mansion's hosting Turgut Uyar's striking and long-lasting love poetry inside and the couple who was to show us a trendy-marriage-proposal outside led me to share another irony: As an anti-marriage person, I experienced one of the longest and strongest relations in my circle. There were no performances, lies or small games from the very beginning, and those things are real energy-suckers in any relationship even if they may appear to be fun at first. We were/are lucky to have met early in life. I cannot deny the star alignments or God’s favoring me over other women in love. But denying the impact of women and gender studies, volumes of studying women’s literature and feminist theories since I was 14 would simply mean ingratitude to dozens of bold and liberated female souls across time and space. They all made me who I am today.

I didn’t wait for the proposal scene on that Sunday afternoon. I am more interested in the journey itself, not its baby steps or showbiz. If only I could, my words to the woman who was put into the role of uttering ‘aye or nay’ would be: Be aware of the romantic love’s mystification of power dynamics in life. There is (almost!) nothing wrong with the marriage itself as long as both partners are in tune with each other’s sensibilities rather than the society’s or media’s prompting them to act in “proper” or trendy ways.

Oh, and the talkative waiter? He told me that he was single and in no rush to get married:)