Generational Perspective on Love

My mom’s side of the family could quite possibly talk forever. We joke about the “Ebright goodbye” because it takes over 30 minutes from the point someone says they have to go to when they actually leave. Somehow in all of those words, I’ve never really gotten to know who they were before they took care of me and what shaped them to become who they are today. I only knew bits and pieces, small glances back in time. 

Art by Kaitlyn Beckmann

So as a freshman in college myself, I decided to explore who they were when they were around my age, what their relationships and ideas of love were like, and how they’ve changed, specifically through the lenses of some of the women who I admire and look up to. Every family has unique stories that changed who they are and who they would become. These are some of mine.

Linda Ebright, my grandmother, went to college in the ‘60s, an age of female sexual empowerment. Feminists told the world that women had the same sexual desires as men and deserved sexual equality. “The Pill” also came out, allowing women to have sex with less fear of pregnancy. However, my grandma was, as she described, “a good Catholic girl,” and she didn’t have sex until marriage because of the pressure she felt from her religion. However, she “wasn’t a saint by any means.” She explained that as many Catholic girls do, she did everything but. And if she could go back, she wouldn’t think twice about having sex in college, something everyone wants to hear from their 75-year-old grandmother. 

She dated a few people in college, but nothing ever got serious. Then, when she had been out of college for a year, she went on a blind date with a Vietnam veteran. Her former sorority sister and his old college friend were organizing a welcome home party for him after the war ended. They invited her to the party to be his date, and they hit it off almost immediately. She said it was the first time she could see herself being with someone for a long time, and it would be nice. They’ve been married for over 50 years. 

Stacy Ebright, my aunt, is extremely headstrong. She is the type of person who will continue to argue until either she wins or the other person gives up, and the latter option almost always prevails. She is strong and independent, traits that she used to—and sometimes still—think made her unworthy of love. 

Stacy had her first boyfriend in high school when she was 16 years old. She was swept off her feet by idealizations of a beautiful romance and didn’t see how terribly she was being treated. She remembers him saying, “It’s my job to try, and it’s your job to stop me,” in reference to sex. She thought this was how every relationship was, where the woman had less value than the man. 

This changed when she found the love of her life during her freshman year of college. He was sweet to her and treated her like an equal, a first for her. He never tried to do anything she didn’t want to do. She didn’t have to try so hard with him; everything came naturally. She could actually see a future with him, but the timing wasn’t right. She was so young and had just been introduced to a new world of cute boys who gave her attention. She decided that she didn’t want to commit to anything so early in her college experience, so she broke up with him. She dated other people, but nothing ever turned into anything, and no one ever compared to him. She still thinks about him and regrets that she ever let him go. He died of cancer a few years ago, leaving behind a wife and children. She often wonders whether the heartache of being with and losing him would have outweighed the life she lived without him. 

Nikki Browning, my mom, struggled the most with opening up about her love life because she was never really able to express her feelings. Growing up, her family didn’t establish an environment where they could openly discuss their emotions, so she kept everything inside. She tried to learn from her own experiences, but she didn’t know how to tell people how she was feeling because it was so foreign to her. 

When my mom met my dad, everything was different. She met him through mutual friends when she was in grad school at Notre Dame. She recalls going to bars with him and her friends and spending hours upon hours just talking to him. They would talk all night until the bar closed, feeling as if no time had passed at all. It was like no one else existed in the world, except for the two of them. He taught her how to share her feelings, and she felt safe with him. They learned how to fight for each other every day.

As a double Pisces, I tend to romanticize my life. I used to live in a dreamy world where I imagined who someone could be, but they were never actually that person. I constructed the perfect boyfriend over and over again in my mind: someone who cared deeply about me and knew what my favorite flower was and what would make me smile. Then, I put my crush’s face on it and convinced myself that he was real. But they were only ever fantasies, not real people. 

But I didn’t have to dream up my current boyfriend because he was already perfect. I met him during the summer before freshman year of college, and we started dating when we got to Emerson. He pays attention to the little things and makes sure I know I am loved every single day. I am happiest when I’m with him, and he’s not only my boyfriend, but my best friend. With the pandemic and moving 1,700 miles away from my family, he has become my home. 

I believe in fate to an extent. I don’t think that everything happens for a reason by any means. I’ve experienced too many bad things to believe that the world works that way. I don’t believe in soulmates. I’m a little skeptical like my mom, but I think that it’s possible to find someone that you genuinely want to spend the rest of your life with. I have seen the love my mother and father share, from reminiscing in the kitchen to cuddling on the couch watching a movie, and I believe that it’s real and that I can find it. 

I know it’s not an easy process. It means waiting, sometimes for longer than you would like, to find the right person who you can truly connect with and who treats you like an equal. I learned that from my mom and my grandma, and most importantly, my aunt. To them, I am the world. They taught me to find someone who treats me like theirs.