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真的有一见钟情这回事吗?为什么没有呢?当爱情来了的时候,那一刻无论如何,情侣们总会找到他们相互惺惺相惜之处。这也许就像他们都曾经读过同一本书,都在一个镇上出生一样平常。同时,他们又会看到双方性格上的互补。
Have you ever known a married couple that just didn't seem as though they
should fit together -- yet they are both happy in the marriage, and you can't
figure out why?
I know of one couple: He is a burly ex-athlete who, in addition to being a
successful salesman, coaches Little League, is active in his Rotary Club and
plays golf every Saturday with friends. Meanwhile, his wife is petite, quiet and
a complete Homebody. She doesn't even like to go out to dinner.
What mysterious force drives us into the arms of one person, while pushing
us away from another who might appear equally desirable to any unbiased
observer?
Of the many factors influencing our idea of the perfect mate, one of the
most telling, according to John Money, professor emeritus of medical psychology
and pediatrics at Johns Hopkins University, is what he calls our "love map" -- a
group of messages encoded in our brains that describes our likes and dislikes.
It shows our preferences in hair and eye color, in voice, smell, and body build.
It also records the kind of personality that appeals to us, whether it's the
warm and friendly type or the strong, silent type.
In short, we fall for and pursue those people who most clearly fit our love
map. And this love map is largely determined in childhood. By age eight, the
pattern for our ideal mate has already begun to float around in our brains.
When I lecture, I often ask couples in the audience what drew them to their
dates or mates. Answers range from "She's strong and independent" and "I go for
redheads" to "I love his sense of humor" and "That crooked smile, that's what
did it."
Robert Winch, a longtime sociology professor at Northwestern University,
stated in his research that our choice of a marriage partner involves a number
of social similarities. But he also maintained that we look for someone with
complementary needs. A talker is attracted to someone who likes to listen, or an
aggressive personality may seek out a more passive partner.
However, there are instances where people of different social backgrounds
end up getting married and being extremely happy. I know of one man, a factory
worker from a traditional Irish family in Chicago, who fell in love with an
African American Baptist. When they got married, their friends and relatives
predicted a quick failure. But 25 years later, the marriage is still strong.
It turns out that the woman was like her mother-in-law -- a loving and
caring person, the type who rolls up her sleeves and volunteers to work at
church or help out people in need. This is the quality that her husband fell
for, and it made color and religion and any other social factors irrelevant to
him.
Or as George Burns, who was Jewish and married the Irish Catholic Gracie
Allen, used to say: his marriage was his favorite gig, even though it was Gracie
who got all the laughs. The two of them did share certain social similarities --
both grew up in the city, in large but poor families. Yet what really drew them
together was evident from the first time they went onstage together. They
complemented each other perfectly: he was the straight man, and she delivered
the punch lines.
There are certainly such "odd couples" who could scarcely be happier. We
all know some drop-dead beautiful person married to an unusually plain
wallflower. This is a trade-off some call the equity theory.
When men and women possess a particular asset, such as high intelligence,
unusual beauty, a personality that makes others swoon, or a hefty bankroll that
has the same effect, some decide to trade their assets for someone else's strong
points. The raging beauty may trade her luster for the power and security that
come with big bucks. The not-so-talented fellow from a good family may swap his
pedigree for a poor but brilliantly talented mate.
Indeed, almost any combination can survive and thrive. Once, some neighbors
of mine stopped by for a friendly social engagement. During the evening Robert,
a man in his 50s, suddenly blurted out, "What would you say if your daughter
planned to marry someone who has a ponytail and insisted on doing the
cooking?"
"Unless your daughter loves cooking," I responded, "I'd say she was darn
lucky."
"Exactly," his wife agreed. "It's really your problem, Robert -- that old
macho thing rearing its head again. The point is, they're in love."
I tried to reassure Robert, pointing out that the young man their daughter
had picked out seemed to be a relaxed, nonjudgmental sort of person -- a trait
he shared with her own mother.
Is there such a thing as love at first sight? Why not? When people become
love-struck, what happens in that instant is the couple probably discover a
unique something they have in common. It could be something as mundane as they
both were reading the same book or were born in the same town. At the same time
they recognize some trait in the other that complements their own
personality.
I happen to be one of those who were struck by the magic wand. On that
fateful weekend, while I was a sophomore at Cornell University, I had a terrible
cold and hesitated to join my family on vacation in the Catskill Mountains.
Finally I decided anything would be better than sitting alone in my dormitory
room.
That night as I was preparing to go to dinner, my sister rushed up the
stairs and said, "When you walk into that dining room, you're going to meet the
man you'll marry."
I think I said something like "Buzz off!" But my sister couldn't have been
more right. I knew it from the moment I saw him, and the memory still gives me
goose flesh. He was a premed student, also at Cornell, who incidentally also had
a bad cold. I fell in love with Milton the instant I met him.
Milt and I were married for 39 years, until his death in 1989. And all that
time we experienced a love that Erich Fromm called a "feeling of fusion, of
oneness," even while we both continued to change, grow and fulfill our
lives. |
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