An amazing thing happened this weekend! My amazing brother
proposed to his girlfriend and she said “yes”!
Oddly enough, I learned that some people still exist in the
19th century. Rather than simply congratulating my brother on the
exciting, wonderful step he and Lauren are taking in life, they decided it
would be an appropriate time and platform to let me know that my relationship
status is unsatisfactory for them. Good to know.
The funny this is that I thought it was 2014. A time where
women are highly educated, independent creatures whose successes are measured
by the people they are and what they do for others rather than the “Bs”:
boyfriends, breeding, and betrothal. Luckily for us, we exist in a time where
we aren’t married off to the local farmer for two sheep and a cow. And yet,
some people still seem to think that regardless of your education, job status,
and philanthropy, a woman’s success (read: happiness) in life depends on being
paired off with another human with the sole purpose of procreation. Thank God those are just their poorly
conceived ideals and not real life.
One of my favorite books of all time is The Handmaid’s Tale
by Margaret Atwood. A dystopian society where fertility is at an all-time low,
women have been relegated to specific roles in society based on what they can
potentially bring to the table. The women are not permitted to read and are “assigned” to
high ranking male officials to conceive children for them. They have no names;
when assigned to a specific male their name is derived from that official’s
first time. For example, the protagonist’s assignment is Fred. Her name is
Offred (literally Of-Fred). Literally, the entire value of a woman’s life is
her ability to be a successful vessel. They bring an elitist’s baby into the
world: they are set for life. Infertile (whether it be the male’s fault or the
vessel’s) women have no value or purpose in society and are discarded. Not
joking.
This is fiction – however, there is absolutely a hint of
this sentiment I felt over the weekend. I have the same issue when I see family
or acquaintances from a while back. You meet them, say “hello”, and after they
ask the obligatory “how are you doing?” and you tell them about your amazing
dog, cats, house, projects, job, etc, they immediately say, “oh, and who are
you seeing?” That is code for “Oh, sweetie! How cute it is that you own your
own house and are happy, but you aren’t TRULY happy unless someone else in life
claims you and wants to make a dozen babies with you.” Obnoxious.
I am not a vessel. My uterus is my business. My dating life
is as well. No, I don’t need you to set me up on a date or “help” me figure out
“what’s wrong” that keeps me single (no, I should not wear my hair down, or
straighten it, or wear more make up, or join a dating site). Actually, some of
the coolest women I know are nulliparous. Crazy! I know. Granted, I have some
amazing female friends who are married and happy and have beautiful children
who make me melt when I’m around them. But!!!! Those women would be just as
fabulous, strong, happy, and inspirational if their wombs had never been
inhabited by tiny humans. I’m not making this stuff up, people!
I remember when I was in 4th grade. We had a writing assignment whose topic
was “Where will you be in 20 years?”. My answer: adopting children from another
country and living in a penthouse suite. No mention of a husband, mind you. My
life is amazing – truly fantastic. I worked hard to get where I am. I have an
adorable house, home improvement projects I love, my animals are wonderful, and
I have the most spectacular group of friends that complement my amazing family.
My.Life.Is.Good. – no, GREAT! I find it insulting that people cannot fathom
this being authentic.
If I find someone, amazing! Or if a relationship is
cultivated with someone who is already in my life, but in a different capacity
– fantastic! However, if I evaluate my life at age 50 (or 60 or 70) and I’m
single, but travel and laugh and am truly happy – that is success! My life will
not be a failure.
I recognize that my true friends and family who desire
seeing me with someone romantically mean that in an authentic manner. They are
genuine with their intent, but still slightly misguided. Things like finding
your potential soul mate are not forced or planned or orchestrated. They just
happen. I figure I live a good life, care for others, try to make the lives of
others better, and if I am supposed to find that person, it will happen.
I love you all, but I am good. As for the rest of those
nosey, pessimistic, condescending individuals who like to remind me that I’m
30, or my “clock is ticking”, or I should “really feel pressure now that my
little brother is engaged” can go play in traffic. : )
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