Is My Number Up?
January 22nd, 2010It finally happened. The day I’ve been dreading… The moment I never thought would come to pass. I guess I deserved it. It’s the question that I always used to ask of others, silently mocking them while doing so.
“You’re almost 40 and never married?”
And the question following is almost never asked out loud, because luckily most people can exercise a little restraint: “What’s wrong with you?” Well, it was asked out loud today – of me. If I could have dug a whole in the travertine floor beneath me, I would have.
I was on a date, sitting across from Mr. Possibility… Six feet tall, salt and pepper hair, green eyes, great dimples – and, wouldn’t you know it, a personality to boot. Until he asked, “Why haven’t you ever been married? What’s wrong with you?” flashing his killer-watt-smile while doing so.
I was speechless. I stared at the air duct on the ceiling, wishing for a moment that it would just suck me right out of my seat. Was I finally there? Am I that girl? The one who people will see, shake their heads and say, “I don’t understand why she never settled down. Poor thing, she’ll never know what it’s like to have a family.”
I’m sorry, was I just diagnosed with terminal Spinster cancer? Last time I checked, the onset age was a little older than my whopping 38 years, and many treatments are available to prevent it for at least ten more years. Last time I checked, I don’t own a mu-mu, and none of my shoes have less than 3-inch heels.
I smiled weakly and gave the same stupid answer I’ve been scoffing at for years, “Well, I guess I just haven’t met the right one yet.” But wait, have I? I mean c’mon, out of all the guys in my life (and for those of you counting, we’re way past fingers and toes), did I simply miss him? In my quest for total single female independence, did he quietly slip out the front door without me noticing and marry someone else?
When I was little, I used to sit at my grandmother’s kitchen table, drawing picture after picture of a man holding hands with a woman, standing next to a house with a big apple tree and a white picket fence. Most of the time the woman was wearing a wedding dress and the guy was taller than the house. So where is it? What the hell happened to it? Not the wedding dress – my apple tree.
After all these years, I just realized something. There’s nothing wrong with me – I simply forgot to plant the seeds.
I sure hope my time isn’t up. I’ve decided I still really like apples.
Here’s a good and truthful answer I used to use in my late 30’s when I, too, wasn’t married. “Frankly, getting married never occurred to me.” Most of my friends were married in their late 30’s or 40’s so it wasn’t like everyone else around me was getting married. Some were; some weren’t. And I was happily living my life. There was a certain freedom when my boss said to me, “Can you work in Australia for 3 months.” Without any hesitation or having to check with anyone I was able to answe,r “Sure.” And a week later, I was down under. Frankly, I only started thinking about the idea of settling down when I got my sweet dog and I actually had someone else in my life I needed to include in the equation. I wouldn’t change those years of complete freedom for anything.
I totally agree with you. And along with “It never occurred to me,” I’ve always said, “I skipped my first marriage.”
~ Her