Ball and chain

Did it ever bother you to live here in New York in the land of single women as a married woman?

No, I've often thought I must be really lucky. Certainly having that huge question of one's life settled early allows you more time and energy to work on other things. I've never looked at it as a question of how many people I won't be involved with. But I never was somebody who dated. I had one serious relationship and then another. I guess I'm somebody who's commitment-inclined.

Why do you think that is?

I don't know. My mom and dad were divorced when I was an infant so the only role model I had was my grandparents' marriage, which was not conventional. My grandmother had my mother when she was 43. And both of my grandparents were so eccentric I don't know what ideas I had from them about what marriage was. I know so many friends who when they got married, it was the culmination of so many fantasies. I was never that person. I didn't think that much about it until it happened. In my case, it was totally intuitive.

Given that you went into this calmly, did you find any surprises in commitment?

I don't think anybody can really anticipate what it's going to be like to be a parent. I don't think anybody is really prepared for the amount of time and energy and focus kids demand. Or for the amount of joy either. We've been married for 17 years and we've gone over a few bumps in which I thought -- I'm sure this is true of Colin as well -- "OK, so this is the person I'm going to be living with for the rest of my life; this is something I'm going to have to learn to cope with." Never moments where I thought, "OK, I'm outta here." Both of us were not only committed to each other in a pretty unqualified way from the beginning, but we've both been mystified by people entering into it with less commitment than that. We've known people who've gotten married with a "Let's see how it goes" attitude and I couldn't identify with that.

You're someone who's written very openly about your personal life. How does it feel to have your husband doing it?

I am much more comfortable writing about stuff like this than my husband is. Somehow when I'm writing personal essay or memoir I really intend to vivisect myself. It's not that I'm not a private person. But I think that there's some sort of disjuncture. I'm a very private person who uses means of self-exposure for expression.

The issues are different for Colin. He's more self-conscious and more protective of his privacy and our family's privacy. But because we're both writers we've understood from the beginning that we each have autonomy as writers: that I can't censor him and he can't censor me. That doesn't mean we're not sensitive to each other. But I am trying to think of what he could say that would bother me, and I just don't know. But then again, I sort of have put us through a trial by fire, so I have a different relationship to this than many people would and I know that.

You seem so calm about all of this.

I think we are pretty calm about marriage. I guess we're just very certain. I know a number of people for whom certain fights lead to thinking or saying the "D" word: "divorce." I know that that's never popped into my head. I've never seen our marriage as something that might be over. When I think about the end of it, every once in a while, I think: Which one of us will go first? And then I think: How can that be? Who's left behind? And that seems an impossible thought.

So you think of your relationship in terms of death?

I think I'm somebody who thinks about death probably a lot. I'm not obsessed with it but I do think about it routinely.

Do you think that's one of the reasons you were able to look at Colin's father's wound?

I think his father asked me to look at it because he wanted my witness to what had happened. I don't think you could bear it by yourself, the consciousness of that kind of wound. I don't think he would have asked Colin because I think to ask that of his child was a different thing, it would have a different impact. Because of the impact it had on me I remember telling Colin there was no reason for him to look at it. I just didn't see purpose in that kind of pain.

Do you think that your awareness of death goes hand in hand with your appreciation for your relationship with your husband?

I don't know if I've ever felt that keen love for anybody without the twin feeling of "Oh my god what would it be like to lose you?" I don't know that I experience one without the other. Having children also changes your relationship to the idea of your death. I remember getting mugged about eight years ago and only having $40 on me and thinking, "Please let it be enough." And saying, "I have kids," and he had what turned out to be a toy gun.

You're hostage to the feelings that you have for people. I don't think there's any way around that. I think that's why some people are afraid of commitment. I guess it's the impulse to not put yourself in a position in which you could lose them.

And opening "Committed" is an introduction by the thrice-married "Bright Lights, Big City" author Jay McInerney, who tells of how he was foiled on the way to his fourth trip down the aisle. His live-in partner and fiancée, Jeanine Pepler, decided partway through the wedding planning that she didn't want to get married, but wanted to stay together. McInerney writes of the way this decision turned social assumptions on their heads; friends didn't know whom to console, and he didn't know how to feel. Had he escaped? Or has he been unceremoniously set free?

Salon: What was your reaction to Jay's piece?

Jeanine Pepler: I was quite amused. You know, Jay was supposed to be a contributor. And when I called off the wedding, he said, "I don't know what to write anymore." And I told him, why don't you write about what happened? Why does the fact that we're not getting married mean our relationship is over? Or damaged? Isn't there a way to write that you don't necessarily have to get married to prove something to society or to yourselves? So why don't you write about the truth, which is we didn't get married but I love you and you love me.

So what happened exactly?

Well, I sort of pushed him a little bit and wanted to see if he loved me enough to marry me. And he did. And once we had plans, we had the church, the priest, once everything was in place it was just a matter of doing it. And suddenly I said to myself: But why? It's so great the way it is! Also, he'd been married three times and it didn't work, why would the fourth time be any different? And if we do it, what's next? Not children -- he has two gorgeous children who I'm so lucky to have in my life -- so maybe divorce is next.

Next Page: "Theres nothing binding me; I'm not shackled. So every day is a decision to stay"

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