The Stigma of Being Single
I’m just fine with being on my own, even if other people aren’t
I had recently returned from a family reunion. I went there ecstatic to see everyone and proud to perform a show and tell of my accomplishments; new job, new race time and, most importantly, my new four-inch heels.
None of this, however, seemed important in the mind of my relatives. My Great Uncle Larry interrupted my long winded accomplishment spiel to say, “Heidi I am just so disappointed that you don’t have a nice man to introduce me to. What’s wrong with you and your independent cousin? When will you find a husband?” My so-called independent cousin was busy entertaining two young bartenders. “Ummm … I think we are doing OK …” I mumbled, praying she wouldn’t start doing a strip tease on the bar and disprove my point.
After the reunion, I tried not to let my great uncle’s comments get to me. After all, he was from a different generation when people got married right after puberty set in. I would like to think that the modern man my age expects women to stay sassy single for a long while.
But sadly, this isn’t the case. One first date after another I have heard the same lines from 30-something men. “I just do not understand. You seem great! How is it that you are still single?”
Right. Because most single people are of the non-great variety? Instead of trying to defend myself, going through the ins and outs of my past breakups, career choices and my boyfriends’ tendencies to fall for 22-year-old women named “Bunny”, I am tempted to instead say, “Well, you got me … I have this secret fetish for barnyard animals. It seems to be the one deal breaker in my otherwise fabulous profile.”
I wonder if giving them this (or a less lewd) explanation would make them feel better?
My friend Mazz gets equally puffy-chested when questioned on her single status. She tells me, “Why, I am just too FABULOUS to be with just one person. Why do people not understand that we choose our status. If I truly wanted to settle down and be married to the wrong person, I would be!”
Alexis chimes in “I don’t trust a woman that has not spent a long time on her own. How else do you get personal growth, travel and the ability to change your own oil?”
I agree. But I am not sure what to do with the pitying looks of my married peers. ‘Someday you’ll find someone” they try to console me. In their minds without a “better half” I am only half a person.
But I don’t need consoling. I feel completely whole. With all my trips planned I am not sure I want to find someone right now anyway. And even if I did, can’t I be considered a success all on my own?
Read Heidi’s last blog: I was a Love Addict