Sometimes I just need to wallow in my sh**!
Today is one of those days.
I was at a meet and greet the other evening and someone asked me if I was married. When I replied, “No, not yet”, I was asked why I was still single? To which I privately stewed inside. As if being single is such a horrible, leparcy-esque type disease for thirty-something ladies? While standing there wallowing my private anger towards this new acquaintance, I knew she was judging me while at the same time dismissing me because I was not coupled off. Her face said it all – contorted face turned to a look of sympathy. I could hear her thinking to herself, “Oh my, I am so thankful I am not in that poor girl’s shoes having to do everything alone”. As I stood there feeling defeated, I pondered what else could have been bouncing around in her pretty little head:
- I bet she’s the type of girl who doesn’t date much.
- I wonder when the last time she had a steady was?
- She must foster a ton of cats who roam the garage and yard and that’s why she’s still single?
- Does she have to hire a handy man to help her around the house?
- Who change’s the oil in her car?
- Where does she eat dinner? At the table or in front of the TV?
- I wonder at this age if she’s ever get married?
Why is it if we are successful, single, thirty-something women, we are dismissed as having something wrong with us?
OK, yeah, I struggle with bad hair days, would like to shed a few pounds and am tired of my wardrobe. And, OK, a dose of more confidence would help, but I don’t house cats, I get my oil changed regularly, I eat at the dinner table and sometimes in front of the TV and I do date.
So why the sympathy? My life is as good as they come.