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.
