Tired of waiting on September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I’ve been in a 2-year relationship with my boyfriend and now we’ve hit that make or break point. He wants to marry me but doesn’t have the financial means yet. We’re both in our mid-20s, make decent money but still have awhile to go before we’re financially secure. He’s planning on going to grad school part time (which would mean 5 years before he would get his degree) but that would take a big chunk out of “wedding savings.” He has also has a lot of financial obligations at home and for his family.

My question is do I wait for him to get his act together or do I move on? I don’t want to be like a Christmas tree that goes bad after the 25th. My parents have been hounding us to at least get engaged but who wants to have a 5-year engagement? I feel like I really do love him (he’s my first “real” b-f) but love won’t pay the bills. I want a comfortable life with my future hubby but if he’s bringing in all this baggage into our life together before we’ve even begun, I don’t really know if I can handle it. I’ve been patient and understanding and I don’t want to lose him but maybe momma’s right and I do have to marry for money rather than love.

Please share your thoughts on this. Thanks!
— (Not a) Material Girl

BG shares her thoughts after the jump!

Here, your weekly installment of Ask Lynn, BG’s alter ego’s column at MSN.com (powered by Match.com). This week, we meet “For Love Or Money?” who asks Lynn to resolve an age-old question: “Who’s right: me or my Mom?”

Also, this age-old question: “When it comes to love, how much does money matter?”

A lot, if you ask FLOM’s mom, who says that since FLOM makes a lot of money, she should get involved only with men who make even more. FLOM, for her part, isn’t so sure. And she’s getting tired of mom asking, “How much does he make?” (instead of, say, “Does he treat you right and make you happy?”).

So. Who is right? Read the great debate, and then come back here to comment!

Re: Gifting on December 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Okay, un petit dilemma. It being the festive, gift-giving season and all, I thought you might be able to help with a somewhat topical question: What do you do about boyfriends who give lame presents?

Let me elaborate:

I love my boyfriend dearly. We have our ups and downs, but on the whole things are great. We’ve been together over three years.

Just one itty bitty li’l problem surfaced — it was my birthday. Now, my boyfriend used to give utterly lame presents for birthdays and Christmas, but he’s been steadily improving. This year, I got a pair of garnet earrings for my birthday — doubly great when he’d sworn never to buy me jewelry until I agreed to get engaged to him (whole ‘nother story).

The problem is that he thinks he was being really thoughtful and sweet and getting me something great. I already have one pair of garnet earrings — with nicer stones, even — and I never wear those. He just didn’t think, I guess. (He also helped his folks pick out a present for me, which was a dismal book I have no interest in reading, and really isn’t “me” at all.)

Trouble is, he gets all enthusiastic about stuff and thinks “Wow, that’s so great, must buy that for my girl!” without stopping to think whether or not I need or want it, or would even like it. The garnet earrings would not have been cheap, either, and it pains me to see him spending so much money on a present which, let’s face it, fails to hit the mark.

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Following up on December 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Ok…so here is my update from last month…I’m still dating Gravy or as he calls it “we are seeing each other.” It is now going past 4 months of dating…I’m over my ex (ya know, the one who left me 3 months before our wedding date). But here is the real clicker.

I really like Gravy….I know I didn’t want something serious at first. I mean HELLOO, I just went through a rilly crappy ordeal 6 months ago. But now I’ve moved on & here I am with Gravy who lives an hour & a half aways…calls me just about every night & sees me every weekend! Sex is great may I add & then the discussion of what are we comes up!

He doesn’t want anything serious — well hello again! We are only spending every weekend together (not just in bed either). I go to all the family functions as if I was a part of his family. But he says he doesn’t want anything serious as he doesn’t want to have to answer to anyone. When the question of are you sleeping with anyone else came up he states no not at all but he would tell me if he was! HELP! I don’t want to be a teenie bopper at 27 telling a guy its me or hit the highway but heck…I do respect myself & yet I know he rilly rilly likes me or he wouldn’t want to spend all this time & money on me! So what can I do…any advice…I mean heck…I’m not looking for marriage yet…but it would be nice for a little commitment or am I expecting way too much way to soon?

— J

Dear J,

If it makes Gravy feel better to issue “nothing serious” disclaimers while acting all boyfriendy — like Tile Guy, above — then fine. But after four months of weekends and family functions, you are totally entitled to request that he not see, much less sleep with, anyone else. He is entitled to accept or decline your request. And if he declines, you won’t be on the next Gravy Train, will you?

Love,
Breakup Girl

The Predicament of the Week from November 30, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I have been in the same relationship for 3 1/2 years. Lived with him for 3 years, owned our house jointly for 1 1/2 years. About a year ago, I started feeling like maybe we should be considering marriage — I was happy in the relationship and it seemed like the natural progression of the relationship too. I was very open about it and told him how I felt — his response was that he wanted to enjoy his 20s (he is now 29, I am 26) and that he didn’t know if he ever wanted to get married, and he wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to marry me. He said that he saw his parents have problems, a lot of friends and their parents have problems, and he wanted to be sure it was the right step to make.

I accepted this answer. In the meantime, it has given me a lot of time to focus on my own feelings and wants and needs, and has given me a chance to see things about him that I don’t like, or at least recognize the fact that there were things I was unhappy about. For one, he and I do not spend a lot of time together: I am a part-time student as well as working full-time, so I am in class two nights a week. However, on two of the other nights, he goes to happy hour with his friends — ALL NIGHT, then drives home, and in his drunken stupor, wants sex. UGH. What a turn-off. I have told him how I feel about this, and he says its no big deal, that he can drink if he wants to, etc.

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On the prowl on November 30, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

When I was in my teens, twenties, and thirties, I always dated men quite a bit older than myself (10-20 yrs). Now that I am “older,” I am not attracted to men my age or older. I am attracted to men mostly in their 30’s (sometimes younger). The problem is, even though I feel like their equal agewise, I realize that through their eyes I am probably “old.” If I care about them a lot, I will end up spending money on them (because I enjoy it, and men spent money on me when I was the young one), but what is happening is I am being used. I kind of know it all along, but I enjoy them and care about them and I think I try to believe they are not really using me…although they are. This really hurts me. I am starting to hate myself for not being younger. It is so frustrating when you feel a certain age inside but you’re actually 20 years older than that and no one really understands. I get a lot of flack from my grown children. (They are only a few years younger than the men I seem to choose, and they are horrified at my behavior.) So here I am again, being used and I have to face it and move on, my children are again outraged and embarrassed by me, and for the life of me I cannot feel turned on thinking of a man my age, much less older than I. It’s like I never changed inside since my late twenties. I still feel the same way. I do look good for the age I am, thank God. In fact I probably look 8 or 9 years younger than I am. (The problem is, the men I choose are more like 20 years younger than I am.) Do you think this will pass, or, if it doesn’t, that there are some men who will not use me and will actually feel about me like I do about them? I doubt it, but I thought I’d ask. Also, do you think my kids are justified in coming down so hard on me? They are both married and have families of their own. I put up with their rebelliousness when they were teens, but now it seems they want to parent me. ( They are really stricter on me than I ever was on them.) Is there something wrong with me? Or should I just go get some plastic surgery and a fake ID and move away so no one knows what I’m doing? I’m not ready for the rocking chair yet. Thanks for listening.

— Mad

Dear Mad,

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: the knife is not the answer.

Nor, in your case, is the rocking chair.

The operative metonymy here, I think, is: the fountain of youth. The key here is not strictly that you’re drawn to younger men (I love that Leo, and the RA on Felicity, and I’m not ashamed!), but rather that you “cannot feel turned on thinking of a man [your] age, much less older.” Why? ‘Cause they’re … old? …Like you? Do you see your reflection in them? I know you say you “look good for your age,” but/so again, I ask you: when you date these guys, do you see your “real” age looking back? And when you, in your dotage, dote on younger men, does it make you feel like Girlfriend’s still got it?

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Mr. Perfect’s coming home on November 23, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl

Found your site when I had just broken up with a guy I dated for 7 years and it gave me some good laughs along with some good advice, so thank you…

Now I’ve gotten myself into this really weird situation and I’m not quite sure how to get out of it…or if I want to get out of it. After this breakup, I was feeling pretty down in general amd wound up taking comfort in the arms of this incredible guy…we had a little bit of a summer fling…which was actually great, my self esteem got a boost (this boy is beautiful) and I had a great time…then he went back to school (he’s 22, has one semester left at an almost Ivy League school, will be done in December and back in town, I’m 24, working in a big city, real life kinda crap).

Here’s the kicker — I’ve known Mr. Perfect for about 10 years…he happens to be my best friend’s little brother…and we chose not to let my friend in on this little fling because we weren’t sure how she’d react…in fact, our parents are friends with each other, and they have no idea either.

So we had this summer fling, that even had a little snag in it when I went up to visit my friend at their family’s summer house and the three of us spent the entire weekend together and we continued to hide the whole thing…well, we just stayed away from each other…then when we got back, we decided we shouldn’t continue the fling because it was too weird (he’s almost like MY little brother –we used to beat each other up…it was weird for him to look at his sister and difficult for me to look his mother in the eye, considering what I was thinking about her son…).

Well, that lasted about a week, until we went out to lunch and scrapped the idea of staying away from each other…it’s just too much fun…that was in August.

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Changing his tune on November 23, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Hmm. Wow. This is weird. I never thought I’d actually be writing to you–I mean, like, ever, in a million years. It’s nothing personal–I think it’s just one of those male ego/”of course I know where I’m going, that farmhouse over there looks just like all the others we keep passing at regular 10 minute intervals because we’re in Nebraska–or is it Kansas?–for God’s sake”/”I don’t need your help, I can quit anytime” kinda things. Plus, it’s been quite a long time since I’ve needed any chick-type advice because . . . well, it’s been too long since I’ve, um, been in any kind of position to need any chick-type advice (which, of course, I will elaborate upon further when I’m done with my really long greeting-paragraph-type-thing). So, anyway, commencing with long-formulaic-breakup-girl- “help-me-help-me-I’m-in-such- utter-despair-and-inner-turmoil” letter version 1.0 . . . or .01 . . . or something like that. . . .

You rock. Your column rocks. Your Mom rocks, your dog rocks, your car rocks, etc. etc. (I mean it all sincerely, but I know you get that stuff all the time, and hearing it from me probably won’t send you up to cloud nine or anything–if, on the other hand, it *does*, then, well, I went ahead and said it).

Allow me to quickly tell you about myself (trust me, it’s all relevant–really, it is). I’m a 19 and a half (yes, I count “and-a-half”s) (okay, I’m going to stop it with these parentheses thingies or I’ll never get this letter written) year-old college student. And I’m a transfer student–I’m from down South, went way up North for a year, enjoyed myself, money and stuff like that didn’t quite work out, came back down South to an in-state school and am doing fine. I’m also–okay, prepare yourself–shy. But unlike a lot of shy people, including those among my friends and most of those who have written letters to you, I’m not really embarrassed about my shyness. In fact, I’ve kind of learned to accept it and to be comfortable with it. Maybe this is a little difficult to explain, or maybe I’m just deluding myself or something, but I figure that the world needs shy people just as much as, if not more than, it needs those who are outgoing; were it not for reclusive, creative people, we’d still be living in caves, wearing fig leaves, and competing with the sabertooth tiger next door for our dinner–nothing would ever get done and we’d all be fighting each other and confused all the time. And to me, shyness isn’t a form of “social phobia”; it’s just another way to be, not something that I need to change, something I need to overcome, or something of which I need to be cured. Besides, as Ralph Ellison so succinctly put it, “I yam what I yam.”

But, that said–how, then, does an introvert get along in such an indelibly extroverted society, especially in matters of the heart, without waning completely Invisible?

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Frustrated on November 9, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I’m 33 and like a schmuck I’ve been dating a 31 year old man where I work for going on three months now. Things seemed to be going pretty darn good between us on every level, except the romance and sex level. “T” seems to have a problem “maintaining a woody.” Because we got along SO well in every other way, I didn’t want to just dump him. I was hoping this would work itself out. Maybe it was the newness of the relationship. Maybe he had been burned in the previous one, whatever. Well, it hasn’t gotten better. It’s to the point where I don’t think he wants to even initiate anything with me because he knows that it will be disappointing.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, BG, and I came to the conclusion that if I was a guy with this problem, I would be the first in line at a urologist’s office trying to find out what the hell was wrong with me. I would be at a shrink’s office delving into the dark recesses of my psyche to try and figure this out. I would be sooooo bummed about this, that I would be doing everything in my power to fix it. In the meantime, if my “plumbing” wasn’t working great, and I had met this woman that I professed to be crazy about, I would do everything else possible to keep her satisfied. You know what I mean?

But nooooo. He doesn’t do anything. He would rather find a way to avoid having to have any kind of sexual contact with me at all. In the three months that we’ve been together, we’ve had maybe eight sexual encounters. I’m sorry, but in every other new relationship I’ve had, that occurs in the first week!

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The Predicament of the Week from November 9, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

At the risk of sounding redundant, I really like what you’re doing here. Your advice is sound and thoughtful and you have a warmth and humor that really translates. I also appreciate that a lot of the letters are really really long and you print them, because in matters of the heart, these things are complicated. But enough about you.

I met my (currently) ex-boyfriend Nick four years ago. We had the HUGE love thing, that instantaneous, dramatic, mind-meld, soulmate thing. We ended up moving in together almost immediately. The problem was that he was The Ultimate Party Boy. He could not walk by a drug without taking it, stayed out all night, left me alone when I was sick in favor of a party, drank ungodly amounts of alcohol, that sort of thing. At the same time, he was this amazing guy. Big blue eyes, long dark lashes, brimming with sincerity, said all the right things, was committed to me and always said he wanted to settle down and be the kind of man his father was. His father was a rock, pretty much John Wayne. He’s been dead for 15 years and people still talk about him in hushed, awed terms.

Nick spun ever deeper into the hole of drugs and alcohol (I don’t drink at all, just don’t like the taste). In the meantime we got two amazing beagle puppies (because I thought we would be together forever) and bought a house in the suburbs. I am originally from NYC, so this was a novel, completely unexpected thing, a little ironic but also very pleasant. His family came up with the money for the down payment and we paid the mortgage together, though I wasn’t on the papers because his stepfather was already co-signing. But I digress.

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