Commitment and freedom; can you have both?

“I’m in the mood for something uber-romantic,” Sara said as she, Mia and I looked over the selections at the video store.

“Rhett Butler romantic or Nick Hornby-John Cusack romantic?” I asked.

“Epic romantic,” Sara said. “Costumes, lust, dramatic music …”

“How about ‘Out of Africa’?” Mia
piped in.    

“Oh, I haven’t seen that in years,”
I enthused. “It started that whole Banana Republic look,
remember?

“Yeah,” Sara said, “and it also started the biggest fight the ex
and I ever had!”

“About?” Mia asked.

“Men and women, freedom and
commitment.”

“Perfect!” I said, as I headed toward the counter.

So we settled in for an evening destined to give us something to bite into, and not just because we made a batch of super-buttery popcorn.

As the romance between a big game hunter, Denys (Robert Redford), and a baroness, Karen (Meryl Strep), develops — intellectual equals and renegades in their own way, he loves her stories and determination, she loves his free spirit and sense of adventure — it’s obvious they’re doomed.

He stays with her on her African coffee farm for a while, they share passionate nights and exciting days together … and then he leaves. For a long time.

And she’s home, alone (well, with a helluva lot of help whom she educates and domesticates and helps in her own ways), keeping everything going.

As much as Denys is happy to give some of his stuff a home — hers — he’s not about to move himself into her home and all the related problems of ownership. He’s committed to her, but treasures his freedom. He loves Africa for its wildness; he does not want to domesticate it like Karen does.

And she’s committed to him — and always waiting for him to return. And stay.

Independence, commitment — can this relationship be saved?

And just like Sara and her ex fought years ago, Mia, Sara and I struggled with deciding who was being selfish — a man who wants commitment and his freedom, or a woman who wants commitment and an equal partner.

And whether you can have both.

Can you?

I enjoyed being married, and probably would have stayed married forever if shit didn’t happen. But then when I got divorced, I suddenly found myself with something I hadn’t had in years — freedom. I had no one to be accountable to. I had “me” time.

Holy crap! If I knew being single, even with a kid, would look like this …

I loved it!

And a lot of other singles and divorcees feel the same way — we treasure our freedom.

But — and it’s a pretty big but — I don’t want to be alone. I want love in my life, and not just the kind from my family and friends. I want the kind of love that, like Denys’ and Karen’s, offers passion, adventure, intellect and, yes, commitment and freedom. That lasts.

I’m just not sure what that’s going to look like. I have no idea if that can exist under one roof.

Mia and Sara both thought Karen was being used. “You can’t have a woman, a warm bed and a meal whenever it’s convenient for you to drop in,” they sniffed.

But Karen set down roots, made a home — those were her choices, even though, in the beginning, when she was married, she didn’t think she’d be doing it all alone.

To me, Denys was no more or less selfish than Karen in wanting what he wanted; it’s just that ultimately they didn’t really want the same thing.

My gut says there are many men who want Denys’ kind of life, and many women who want Karen’s.

What do you think?