What's The Opposite of Misogamy?

Misogamy is the irrational fear of marriage. It has a few other names: Gamophobia, Commitment-Phobia, Cold-Feet. I’m sure there are others. What it burns down to is that someone suffering from misogamy will have an unnecessarily severe apprehension to the institution of marriage.

I used to be afraid of marriage. Mention the word and my hands would get clammy, my throat would get tight, my chest would begin to ache and butterflies would begin to swarm in my stomach. I couldn’t stomach the idea of making a commitment to anyone, even to a man I loved with all my heart.

I had a million fairly logical reasons to defend my lifestyle. Marriage held no benefit for me. It couldn’t provide any financial advancement that cohabitation couldn’t provide. Even taxes wouldn’t get any cheaper for me if I were to file jointly verses filing separately. Besides that, marriage allows people to get overly comfortable with one another and start taking each other for granted. People let themselves go after marriage. They stop taking care of their appearance. They stop watching what they say. They stop cleaning up after themselves. When you’re still dating you’re still trying.

More to the point however, I’m sure my fear of marriage stemmed from the rotten marriage I had with Mr. Perfect. That marriage boiled down three years of abuse, loneliness and depravation. Rationally I know that if I had dated Mr. Perfect for more than 3 months before I married him I probably would have noticed what a creep and a nut-job he was. Emotionally, something kept telling me that saying “I do” jinxed the whole relationship.

Everyone knows my feelings on marriage. I’m so open about it that I even named myself after my fear. (Miss Ogamy – Misogamy. Get it? Haha)My boyfriend, Mr. Excitement tried to help me work through the fear. He bought me an engagement ring. I wore it for about a year before we had to pawn it to pay bills. He bought me a second one. I threw it back in his face during a particularly petty fight. After that he resigned himself to simply being my common-law-husband. Even that was a major concession on my part. I cringed when I filled his name into the “husband” spot on my medical records, but at the time it seemed necessary. I needed him to be able to make medical decisions while I was incapable of making them myself.