An Answered Prayer

My Divine Writer has spoken.

Guess that US trip needs to wait for a few more months.

Growing old, Desperate Housewives-style

It may seem an irony for a full-blooded production person like me, but I rarely watch TV. I used to, in heavy doses, but that was when I was much, much younger. The time when I didn't drift off to sleep within five minutes of staring at the tube.

However, there are some TV series that occasionally catch my attention and have me looking forward to new episodes every week. Desperate Housewives is one of them. I find the characters funny, the plot engaging, and the writing style equally witty and insightful. I think that if I were half as good as their writers there, that would be my writing style, too (although I do not think I would make a racial slur like they did one time, but that is a separate issue altogether). I was watching an episode last night and one particular scene touched me.

Two of the characters, husband and wife Tom and Lynette Scavo (played by Doug Savant and Felicity Huffman), were having an argument. As a quick background, Tom wanted to have plastic elective surgery done to his face. He felt that the years have taken their toll on his features, and he's blaming what he perceives as his unsavoury appearance for his lack of employment. He is convinced that prospective employers give him a cursory once-over during interviews, and he immediately loses out to the next fresh graduate sitting in the waiting room. Apart from his increasing insecurity stemming from Lynette's flourishing career, his ego received a further bruising when they chanced upon an old classmate who looked about 10 years younger than Tom did. And Lynette just happened to rub salt into his wounds when she laughingly remarked, "Seriously? You two were classmates? You were IN THE SAME CLASS?!"

Lynette tried dissuading Tom from the procedure. Of course, there was the money issue; they had several school-age kids plus a toddler in a single-income household. She is also afraid that once Tom's outward appearance improves, he would think she looks unsightly and would dump her for a pretty young thing. She went as far as inviting an officemate to their house - someone who had a botched-up surgery - just so she could drive her point in. But Tom is adamant. And as they argued in the kitchen, far from their guest's hearing, Lynette revealed her true reasons for not wanting him to go under the knife.

Lynette said she did not look at Tom's lines as wrinkles, but as a map of their life together. Each crease represented an important event. The thought lines on his forehead, "That's you worrying about how to provide for us." The frown marks, "That's my cancer" (she is a cancer survivor). The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, "That's all the laughter we shared together." Needless to say, Tom relented and did not pursue the surgery.

Touching and true. Each moment of laughter, each heartbreaking instance, the marching years make sure that they are all indelibly etched into our countenance. Most of us choose to pay attention to the superficial; I, for one, am guilty of that (I find myself increasingly attracted to wrinkle-control creams, and I actually keep a nightly regimen to keep the creases at bay).

But, perhaps, what we must all aim to do is to look beyond the sagging skin and diminishing youth, and focus on how well we journeyed using the Maps of our Lives. And it is only when we are truly happy with our life's voyage can we stand in front of the mirror, look at those wrinkles without batting a heavily-mascara'd eyelash, and still say that, "I am beautiful."

I hope to remain beautiful for my husband. And I pray that, someday, many years from now, despite my age and outwardly appearance, he will continue to bestow me with the same loving look and say, "You are still my beautiful wife."

Tom and Lynette's photo courtesy of ABC.

Old couple's photo courtesy of Getty Images. 

A Most Dreadful Gesture

I was checking my Facebook account the other day when I came across a link posted by one of my contacts. It was about a wedding proposal. Out of curiosity (and maybe because, deep inside, there's a cheesy gal in there), I clicked the link and watched it.

There was nothing fancy-schmanzy about it. No romantic, candlelit dinner, no spectacular beaches at sunset. What actually made it special was the video the guy made to propose to his girl. It basically showed a cut-to-cut compilation of his smiling self, medium shots, with some road signs/establishment names behind him...such as the U-turn sign, the last two L's from "Shell", the McDonald's "M", stuff like that. All together, the signs spelled "Will U marry me". Plus points for the guy for his creativity and effort.

What ruined the moment for me was when I saw him kneeling in front of the girl, that classic pose while offering the engagement ring. Okay, I know I have a sappy streak, but for some reason, I find that gesture quite pretentious.

What does kneeling mean?


To kneel is to beg. So now a man has to beg a girl to marry him? How pathetic can you get? If you need to beg to get the girl you want, then there's something really wrong in the picture. Take off the rose-coloured glasses to get a better look at things.

It means devotion, true. But I only kneel in front of my Divine Writer. I am devoted to my mother but I never did that to her. Sure, I kneel in front of my cat, but only to pet her.

Kneeling connotes subservience. Remember the olden times when servants will kneel in front of their kings and queens? Hard core romantics may argue that it means they are willing to "serve their queens"...but how come they expect women to pick up their dirty socks and cook them dinner - can someone clarify who is supposed to serve whom again?

Humility? Maybe. But men are expected to "wear the pants" and be the "head of the family" in our patriarchal society. It has been ingrained in their earliest memories that they are the masters of the house. I don't think they'll give up the claim. So why waste the moment kneeling on the day you propose? They shouldn't promise a lifetime of humility when their basic, socially-conditioned, testosterone-driven nature goes against it.

I'm a deeply romantic woman. My husband knows how romantically creative I can be, and I have made him weep tears of joy on several occasions. But kneeling in front of a woman to propose marriage is not for me. At the risk of sounding like I'm sour-graping, I'm glad my husband did not propose to me as such.

In my humble, personal opinion, a marriage is a union of equals. Therefore, there should be no expectation of subservience. It should be give-and-take.

My husband and I once talked about this, and we agreed that we should never refer to the other as "my better half". We choose to call the other "my other half". We're "partners" in every sense of the word. Because we complete each other. Because one is not "better" than the other; instead, we make each other better. We complement each other's weaknesses as well as our strengths. And our life's decisions are never based on who gets to have the final say; rather, we arrive at a mutual agreement that we are both comfortable with, that we feel would be best for our family, and would not leave any resentment in the other's heart just because one of us needs to give way to a designated decision-maker.

So please stop kneeling. Unless you want to give a blowjob.

Happy Valentine's Day!



Thank you to Getty Images for the royalty-free photos