Finding Identity Alone

I paid a shiva call a few weeks ago to a middle aged woman whose sister passed away from cancer. She was a true blue New Yorker- the woman who i was visiting was sitting in her sister's apartment-- a hip studio with a loft near the village. She spoke about her sister with enthusiasm as though she were still around, remembering good times together with her. She passed around pictures, and told how her sister was an energetic, intelligent woman who had a dedicated boyfriend who stayed with her until the last. Her sister designed kitchens, and she said that quite a few people had visited during the shiva saying that they loved the job that she did. She was well loved by her nieces and nephews-- they all called her their "cool aunt."
One story stuck out in the woman (whom I was visiting)'s mind. She said that one of her sons got into a car accident, and when she called her sister while she was working, she answered the phone, "what do you want?" which, she explained, was how they answered each other's calls. After she told her how her son got into an accident, her sister responded immediately, "take all the time you need." She said she was so much there for her when she needed her to be.
Her sister showed me a copy of what her daughter said about her aunt at the funeral. It bespoke genuine love, admiration, awe and respect for this aunt's entire life. The way she could finish the crossword puzzle in an hour, the passion she had for art, the energy she put into her work and attention and compassion she gave to her friends and family.
And the cancer took her, and the nurses all loved her, and she would still look after her boyfriend, getting him a physical trainer.
She reminded me of my grandmother-- single for a large part of her life, loved by all, a serious, ambitious woman. She reminded me of my writing and music professors, liberal, non-conventional artists in New York who never marry and settle down with a family, even if they do have life-partners.
I thought of other experiences I'd had in shiva houses, where I felt that the niftar's spouse and children didn't have that much to say about the person they were mourning. They felt a sadness, and they missed having a parent/spouse. They spoke of how the person was a good person; a good employee; a good parent. I haven't always heard of how the person inspired those who are living, how they changed their lives.
Obviously, this description is not comprehensive or accurate, and there are exceptions in both directions, but this experience made me think that one chooses between one's self and one's family. I imagined that women (in particular-- this might be true for men, too) who do not marry can spend their lives finding themselves, and pursuing dreams. Women who marry, on the other hand, and stay married until the end, give up their dreams of personal fulfilment for the satisfaction of having safety and security in a stable marriage and with the preoccupation of raising children.
As I noted before, of course, this is not a true observation, but was highlighted by comparing a very small number of instances, and viewing them with a very particular lens. My question is why? What makes me view these experiences from this end? I know of many men and women personally, who have been able to maintain a personal sense of identity while at the same time participating in effective family life. Of course, it is ideal that the family should enhance one's individuality and vice-versa, but for some reason, I imagined this necessary sacrifice of one for the other. In fact, a part of me is still saying that one does, to a certain extent, necessarily give up on individuality when she joins in this heteronomous partnership, and that these experiences were classic examples of this.
I think that perhaps my life experience points me in this direction based on the fact that we spend much of our lives as youth growing and developing into the people we will become on our own. Especially since I gave up being friends with boys while I was in high school in an effort to focus on personal growth. I associate single-hood with a personal development. Relationships, for some reason or another, seem like finished-person territory. I think that this worked as a perception before I reached a stage of life where marriage was a real possibility, and now that I'm here, it's no longer plausible. Don't get me wrong-- some people are finished the minute they start. They have basically the same personality, the same values, often the same thoughts, when they're thirty as they had when they were in high school. But I can't be that person. I'm going to be changing for a good long time, and this is a difficulty for a few reasons:
1. It seems to join up together with another person, certain decisions have to be made about values and beliefs. This forces you to freeze a dynamic, fluid life at a given moment, and say, "this is me!"
2. Practically, much of one's time and many of one's resources are dedicated to one's personal fulfilment, and this cannot be maintained in adulthood. The thoughtful, introspective college student will wake up one morning buried under bills and house chores, with carpools and doctors appointments, and wonder why she hasn't read (or written) a good piece of thoughtful literature in a while. The transition from one stage of life to another begins with the relationship that will become a marriage, where we loose our autonomy to a degree.
In the end of the day, though, I think it is important for us to know ourselves, and to look for people with whom we'll be able to thrive as partners-- but also, as individuals. We cannot only be concerned with our personal goals anymore, because we have another person (and then people) in the picture to consider, but we cannot give up on them entirely.
I suppose this post is starting to sound cliche, but it's not an easy thing to implement into one's life. Once we are confronted with the relationship, we realize that so much of our identities are formed alone, and that this relationship is going to challenge that autonomy. But, we hope that that will lead to personal growth, and that it will all be worthwhile.