My friends and I have been constantly trying to define compatibility. What makes two people reasonable long term partners? I think that, perhaps, nothing society tells us is important—shared goals, a fundamental respect for each other’s values, similar levels of religious observance—matters much at all, and that all of the things we’re told are silly or superficial—sexual compatibility, despising the same art, a similar alcohol tolerance—matter the most.
A friend of mine met, a few years ago, a man who seemed wholly viable for her long term. He had a stable job! He was smart! He was ambitious! They were very attracted to each other! What more could a girl need?
“I can do this.” She said to me on the phone from the home gym in his suburban ranch style. “This is a nice life, this is a good life. Anyone should be happy with this life.” But, my Sisters in Christ, she could not do it. Because he wore striped polo shirts and avoided carbohydrates and his family had a lake house where he wanted to spend all of his vacation time. And she wore Chloe (Philo, not whatever’s happening over there now) and Khaite, and sometimes had a third martini, and goes to the Caribbean or Aspen for the holidays unless there is a fun group going to Paris in which case she’s happy to tag along.
There is no higher morality or more humble virtue to either life but they are not the same life. From the outside, they look similar: monied, more or less tasteful, full of straight teeth and cashmere sweaters. But a woman who has a favorite dish and a relationship with the maitre d’ at restaurants in four American cities cannot be with a man who prefers to eat at the country club most nights. I’m not even sure a woman who loves Jackson Hole could ever make it work with a dude who winters in Aspen. It's not about money, class, sophistication, or golf. It’s about desiring the same experience of the world.
I thought I could be a staid, well behaved housewife.