Introduction: Searching for Courtship

Listen with Your Heart : Seeking the Sacred in Romantic Love
by Eileen Flanagan

We were browsing through Borders bookstore on a Saturday night as Jayne updated Nancy on the status of her new relationship. Wandering past the self-help section, a title caught my eye that I just couldn't resist: Searching for Courtship: The Smart Woman's Guide to Finding a Good Husband. The three of us, all heterosexual women in our early thirties, formed a giddy huddle in the aisle and began thumbing through the pages.

Friendships with men "divert you from your higher goal," says Winnifred B. Cutler, Ph.D. "If you have time to spare after scheduling your three search events per week, you would probably do better to build friendships with other women-unless your male friend fixes you up with courtship candidates." Cutler advocates a systematic program for finding a husband, using a loose-leaf binder, two inches thick, and a set of twelve dividers to track different sources of male suitors. Nancy was particularly amused by the binder and began speculating on how one might have helped her track down her new husband, Rick, who was a few aisles away thumbing through baseball books.

We began to giggle uncontrollably, like fourth graders looking at nude pictures in the locker room. Jayne's boyfriend, Matt, wandered over but quickly disappeared, perplexed by our hysterical laughter. The longer we stood mocking the book, however, the more I got the sinking feeling its message was not so funny, or distant. I grew quiet as we headed out of the store-Nancy and Rick, Jayne and Matt, and I, the odd number, as usual. The warning rang out loud and clear. Better hurry up; all the good ones are almost gone!

At the time I was thirty-one, never married, and well aware of the pressure single women face. My mother hinted that she hoped she'd live to see her grandchildren. An old friend said she was sad I didn't have "someone special." Although I had enjoyed my single twenties, Searching for Courtship hit a nerve. I bristled at the sexist assumptions and the clinical approach to dating, but I laughed in nervous recognition. The book compelled me to examine the ways I was searching for courtship and the assumptions I held about love.

I returned to the bookstore alone and found numerous guides on how to find a lover or mate: How to Start a Romantic Encounter, 50 Ways to Find a Lover, and Guerrilla Dating Tactics. Exploring other stories, I realized how many books on the market explicitly promise marriage: How to Get Married in a Year or Less, How to Marry the Man of Your Choice, and How to Marry the Rich, to name just a few. I began noticing courtship advice throughout the media: television talk shows on "How to Meet that Future Spouse" and magazine articles on "Shopping for a Man." The shopping approach showed up again and again, from newspaper classifieds where people advertise their height, weight, and hobbies to dating services where people pay exorbitant fees, hoping to buy "love."

Most popular dating advice reflects a consumer approach to love. We are told that finding a mate is like "shopping for a car or an apartment," and we should begin by writing a checklist of what we want. Dating guides tell us to advertise our assets by wearing sheer black pantyhose and short skirts. In the marriage market, we are merchandise as well as consumers, selling ourselves in exchange for what we want. As one book puts it, "The trick is to have such a clear assessment of the package you are buying that you can feel confident you got the better deal on balance."

Describing marriage as a business deal reveals the basic selfishness of the consumer approach to love. The whole point of the shopping list is to determine "What do I want?" The question "What can I give?" is only asked to evaluate my bargaining position, to list the assets I can use as bait to attract a lover. This approach misses the essence of real love: the joy of caring about another's well-being and happiness. It is the unselfishness of love that expands and fulfills us, that challenges us to grow and become more. It is a sad irony that so many books promote narcissism in the name of love, steering their readers away from the real wonder of loving.

The hope for love is human and good. There is nothing wrong with wanting to find a life partner, and by criticizing the courtship manuals, I am not criticizing the millions of women who have read them. I cannot mock a longing that I myself have known. The problem is that most courtship manuals speak to our fears rather than our hopes. They teach us to sell ourselves rather than be true to ourselves. They promote manipulation rather than real loving.

These books are not anomalies we can dismiss by saying, "Well, I don't read that sort of thing." Their assumptions permeate our culture, affecting how we approach intimate relationships even when we think we are working out of a different value system. That is why I take the courtship manuals seriously, even while I laugh at their more ludicrous suggestions. Studying these books forced me to realize how often I have advertised my eyes and legs and calculated the timing of my sales pitch. I have browsed parties like a shopper cruising the mall, treating men like merchandise. I have written a shopping list. Recognizing these attitudes within myself and our culture challenged me to articulate a different vision.

At the time I began writing about these issues, I was living and working at a contemplative center founded by Quakers, and the spiritual values of this community provided a striking contrast to the consumer approach to love. As I struggled to accept the end of an important romance, I wondered how I could apply spiritual principles to my own romantic dilemmas. I was not seeking a profitable deal, but a partnership grown organically out of love, where the priority was to support and challenge each other to grow to our fullest potential. I knew this image was not a thing, to be achieved or purchased, but a way of living. How does one grow toward this way of living? I wondered. How can I admit I would like to share my life with someone without becoming a husband hunter? I began writing about these questions during Advent, the Christian season of waiting, and the theme of expectant waiting seemed to capture what I felt was the alternative to frantic man-hunting. Not passively sitting home feeling sorry for myself waiting, but instead actively waiting-living fully in the present, trusting that if I was meant to be married then it would happen without my forcing it.

I spent the next few years exploring ideas about love, reading widely in religion, psychology, and popular culture. Since women are the major audience for most how-to-catch-a-mate strategies, I focused on women's experience, although I hope the ideas in this book will resonate with men as well. I interviewed people I thought had something wise to say on the subject, thirty-nine women and men who shared their stories with extraordinary depth and candor. Often there was remarkable serendipity in the timing of the interviews, raising issues just when a person needed to talk about them or just when I needed to hear what they had to say.

My method of finding people to interview was very intuitive. Names were suggested to me. People appeared. The result was an interview sample that is disproportionately white, female, educated, and middle class. Most are from a Judeo-Christian background, though not all would consider themselves religious. I do not claim they are representative of our society as a whole. They do, however, represent a broad range of relationship experience. Some are married, several for the second time. Among the unmarried, some plan to remain single, while others hope to find a spouse someday. Some are sexually active. Some are celibate. Some are heterosexual. Some are lesbians. What all the people interviewed have in common is the desire to make decisions about their lives consciously and with integrity.

The most important research for this book was very personal, as I sought to live the questions I was asking. During the writing of this book, a friendship that began platonically developed into an intimate partnership, and chapter topics presented themselves through real-life dilemmas. As this relationship grew toward marriage, I became even more convinced that the way we approach courtship determines the quality of partnership we develop. A twelve-section binder could not have helped me find Tom. "Guerrilla dating tactics" could not have led to the mutually supportive partnership we share today. Rather than an achievement or a reward, our marriage is a gift, a grace, and a cause for gratitude.

What follows includes my story, as well as the stories of people I interviewed, contrasted with the consumer approach to love. In chapter 1, I present loving as a spiritual practice that enables us to grow closer to the Divine. In chapter 2, I show how the practice of spiritual discernment can guide us in this process, helping us find the form of loving that reflects our true selves. Chapter 3 explores the pressures that may muddy our discernment, such as fear, loneliness, and the biological clock. Chapter 4 examines the challenge of letting go and trusting in the search for love. Chapters 5 and 6 look at the development of romantic relationships and the issues that arise when two people attempt to discern if they are meant to marry. The conclusion points toward the future, reminding us that marriage is a continuing journey, not a final destination.

Unlike some authors, I do not promise a "marriage made in heaven" for those who follow my advice. There is no simple formula that will make someone fall in love with us, much as we may wish for one. There is no quick fix to loneliness, no foolproof plan to find our soul mate, and books that promise such easy answers merely distract us from the difficult but more gratifying work of searching our own souls. Ironically, inward searching may actually lead to more fulfilling relationships than searching for a mate. Several women I interviewed noted that it was only when they stopped looking for Mr. Right and focused on their own inner growth that meaningful relationships developed in their lives. This makes sense since a woman at peace with herself is more attractive than one who is desperate for affection. More important, a woman who knows who she is has more to offer than one who is looking for a partner to define and fulfill her. Any partnership she develops will be more loving than a marriage built on desperation and deception.

If we want a partnership with spiritual depth, we must begin by realizing that "shopping for a man" will not get us there. A dating strategy that is selfish and manipulative will attract selfish, manipulative people and lead to an unloving relationship. The means determine the ends. A thistle seed will not produce roses. Product and process are inseparable.

We can plant the seeds of anxiety and manipulation or the seeds of love and trust. This book is about learning to love and trust.

© 1998 by Eileen Flanagan

About the Author

I don't know if this book will change anyone else's life, but it certainly changed mine! The process of writing about the spiritual nature of loving helped to open me up to love in my own life. Chapter topics presented themselves as I moved from singleness to dating to commitment. My writing and my life enriched each other along the way. The fact that I now am able to share that story with others through this book is an added blessing.