Guiding Lights - #1. Individuality
I remember walking the streets of Buenos Aires at midnight. I’d put my headphones on, search for music on my iPod that seemed to match the feeling of the evening, and then I’d walk. I’d go for miles - occasionally into areas that I’d be warned later on weren’t exactly “safe” for midnight strolls but nonetheless, I have such fond memories of putting my headphones on and walking. I was 20 then. Today, every so often a song will come across a playlist or spin on the radio in a shop somewhere and I’m instantly transported back to Buenos Aires, walking from Belgrano to Puerto Madero listening to my headphones. Mostly I’ve stopped doing that.
When I got married I began a slow process of losing myself. Not because of my wife - God knows she’s been as supportive as they come - but “losing” the part of me that I had cultivated on my own, solo. It wasn’t something anyone did to me - I think I did it to myself. I didn’t know “what” marriage was supposed to be, or what sharing life with someone was supposed to look like. I’ve filmed hundreds of weddings, heard thousands of speeches from family, friends, parents, and inevitably I’ve found myself thinking: “if I were asked to give advice at a wedding, what would it be?”
“You’re my everything. You complete me. You’re the wind in my sails.”
I’ve heard these things said countless times in vows, letters, speeches, and let me first say that romance in one’s youth is such an incredible thing. It’s easy to grow old and think, “just wait until the shimmer wears off,” or some other curmudgeonly deprecation of young love. Now, as a parent, I find myself trying to reclaim some of that youthful exuberance. That said, my advice today is also one of my guiding lights when I tell a story. Be an individual.
Marriage is about connection, not absorption.
Reading an Esther Perel book recently I resonated so strongly with one of her anecdotes. A young man mentioned that his partner went to bed so very early, and he felt frustrated because he was a night owl. She asked him if he ever went out with friends when she went to sleep. His response was exactly like mine, “wait…I can do that?” We’ve heard the narrative about being soulmates and completing each other for so long that, at least for me, I slowly stopped doing things that I previously had loved for myself.
Strangest of all, my wife has actually encouraged me to get out of the house, to go on a hike, to take a camping trip - but it hadn’t fully registered until recently that I was being held hostage by my own flawed beliefs - not “mission statement” beliefs that I would hang on a poster, but subconscious beliefs I didn’t know I had. I’m increasingly convinced that marriage is about connection, not absorption. A connecting of two people, a unification, a partnership that traverses all the ups and downs of life, but not something that minimizes the differences of each other. This connection is a “choice,” we love someone because of who they are, not so that we can absorb them into ourselves.
When we lose our individuality in a relationship, we deprive our partner of a lifetime of discovery.
A marriage is built on trust. My wife and I have a lot of commonality, but we also have a lot of differences. For my part, I feel that I’ve really neglected my own individuality and it has been to our detriment. As things have been changing in that regard, the differences between her and I are sexy. I think that my inclination to “absorb” wasn’t rooted in trust, but rather in fear. Afraid that perhaps my wife wouldn’t choose me, or continue to choose me. Marriage is meant to provide stability, right? But when you lose your individuality, I think you also take away something beautiful from your partner: the ability to continue discovering new things about yourself.
What does this have to do with wedding filmmaking?
Increasingly I find that my philosophy seeps into my work. Yes, I’m making wedding films which are cool but not exactly considered “high art” by the art community at large. But it’s my form of artistic expression, and these themes are absolutely present in the films I make. Yes, my films have themes (at least to me). If I were to give advice today at a wedding, it would simple:
Love each other. Take care of yourself - remember that you are choosing, and being chosen by, someone who has a will completely outside of your own. That’s beautiful. Connect with each other. Don’t neglect the passions you have that may not be shared. Go on a walk. Together. By yourself. Trust each other. Connect, don’t absorb. Love is scary. You could have chosen someone else but you didn’t want to. Your partner could have chosen someone else but they didn’t want to. Love every part of yourselves that touch, every commonality, and celebrate everything that doesn’t. Two become one. And are yet, paradoxically, two. Be an individual. Be an individual who loves another individual. Take the time to feed your soul - put the headphones on, go walk the city alone. Individuality is sexy.