I shall stay the way I am because I do not give a damn.

I have realized something. I have reached the age that people now feel it is appropriate to say “and you’re not married?!” in a condemning and disbelieving fashion after they find out how old I am. This, needless to say, is not helpful.

I was at work today playing get to know the new co-worker via meaningless chit chat, as one does, and she asked me if I am currently a party to the wedded state. I said no. A few minutes later she asked me how old I am. I told her that I am thirty-two. She then gasped and said, with eyes made wide by shock, “and you’re not married?!” No. No, I’m not. I believe we just covered that. She then asked me if it was by choice or….the sentence trailed off.

I’m sorry. I don’t understand the question. Are you asking me if it’s my choice not to be married or….am I too ugly/stupid/defective to “catch” a man? Is it my choice or…..is my right to marriage being impeded by those pesky Republicans but it‘s ok because my “roommate“ and I are planning to adopt a child from Asia? Is it my choice or…..has the state decided that I should not be allowed to marry for fear that I will breed more weirdoes like myself? What? What are you asking me?!

I was caught unawares even though I’ve read the “chick lit”! I never understood those scenes in books where the single woman is verbally abused by the married people in the room. Probably because it had never happened to me. I didn’t get it. Now I see. I’ve had my eyes opened for me. And what, you’re wondering, is the point?

The point is that it is never ok to assume that because something is right for you that it is right for every other person on the face of G-d’s little green earth. I’m happy that you’ve found your soul mate. The ying to your yang. That extra special wee little punkin’. The person who, hopefully, gets you. Really. Truly. I am. G-d bless! I, however, have not. And, honestly? I’m ok with it.

I will admit that occasionally I think that life would be made better by having someone around who honest to G-d knows what I think about something without having to ask. Possibly it would be nice to know a man who doesn’t mind if I’m the funny one. I’m not knocking having someone to just sit around and be fuckin’ stupid with who will also not get spooked and run screaming for the anti-psychotics when I exhibit an emotional range larger than a robots. I’m not against keeping a person handy who only wants the best for me and is willing to get screamed at (by me occasionally) for that good thought. All of these things would be peachy. I am for them.

Unfortunately, no such man has come along. What would you have me do? Marry any man who asks me just so I can say that I’ve been married? Or should I hold out for a rich one? That way I can say I was married once and get paid! Both of these options are vile. Call me old fashioned but I’m not going to stand up in front of G-d and everybody and swear to love someone forever with my fingers crossed. I’m kooky like that.

And what if this mythical soul mate of mine did come along? Does that mean I would immediately feel the need to run out and get hitched? Jesus wept! Why would I? You think a ring proves something? You think saying the words makes them true? No. Feeling bound to somebody, not by a ceremony or a statute and for damn sure not by a piece of jewelry but by mutual respect and love, proves something. Demonstrating your love through common every day run of the mill actions makes it true. If you don’t know that you are loved without someone having to say it or perform an expensive ritual then the odds are you aren‘t.

Let us be clear. I do not condemn the married state. I say have at it. I respect anybody’s choice to wed. Hell, if there is an open bar I will be positively giddy for you! But do I long to be married? No. If I see a big mafia bride wedding dress do I think I’ve just got to get me one of those? Nope. Do I have panic attacks because I’ve just got to get hitched before time runs out and I’ll look too dumb wearing white to do it? Uh uh.

I know that some will doubt me. They believe that every woman wants that shiny gold band. They think that without it I will never be complete. That I will wander alone and sad all the days of my life. That this post is the proverbial sour grapes. That if I was asked tomorrow by any Joe Schmoe I’d jump at the chance to be Mrs. Whoeverthefuck. Well, to them I say, that’s alright. You believe what you want and I’ll know that I would rather die alone than live five minutes with the wrong person or feel compelled to run through a formal procedure to prove my devotion.

So, in conclusion, the next time you’re about to assume that everybody either is or should be married stop. Think. Then turn that sentence the hell around and say, “So, how ‘bout those Mets?” instead.