Sunday, December 7, 2014

No, I'm no one's wife

For almost seven years, this verse in "All That Jazz" from the musical, "Chicago" was sort of my mantra.
"No, I'm no one's wife. But, oh, I love my life!"

In other words: I'm not married, and I'm ok with that!

I guess, now that I'm in my late 20s, and am about to be someone's wife, I'm noticing things I either didn't notice before, or just never paid much mind to. For instance (and, unfortunately, this is something I have been running into for several years now), the fact that I am almost 28 with no husband and no children, somehow makes me less...credible, I suppose? As a professional, an adult, and as a woman in general.

I am getting married in April of next year. By the time I change my name, the man I'm marrying and I will have been together for going on five years. I'm not ashamed of that fact; I'm actually proud of it. We decided this. Together. The two of us. There for a while, we even thought about not getting married at all. We would have had a happy life, committed to each other, raising a family, without becoming husband and wife. Separate last names forever, and that would have been just as ok with us. After a while, however, we did decide to get married because it was something we wanted to share with each other.

However, once we announced the wedding date (one year and four months after the engagement), then came the endless questions of "Why wait so long?" "You've been together so long already; why do you need such a long engagement?" Because we aren't in a hurry. Because for us, it isn't about being married; it's about being together. Of course I'm excited to be able to introduce him as my husband; of course I'm excited to sign with my new name, and check the box next to "Married". But, personally, I don't think that makes me any more valuable to society than I already am...

When I was vying for a promotion at a previous job, my boss at the time told me that I was going to struggle more in that position than the other candidates, specifically because I was younger, single, and had no children. He told me customers would have a hard time taking me seriously and relating to me - and vice versa - because I wouldn't know what it's like to have a family. He - jokingly, though I believe it was only half-jokingly - told me I should get married & have a couple kids, then come back. Har har har.

For the record, I did get that promotion, and I never once lost a costumer due to being neither a mother nor married.

Even today, however, more than three years later, this is something I'm still running into. You know what is perhaps the worst part? The majority of this judgmental pressure comes from my friends (*NOTE not all of my friends; just some. And no, I will not be naming names, or offering reassurance as to whether you - the reader - are or are not one of these said-friends. If you're guilty of this, I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself. Further more, I'm sure it's something we have discussed, and hopefully reached a truce).

When I was sixteen, I made myself a promise: I would not get married before I was 23, and - if I had anything to say about it - I would not become a mother before I was 25. This was a decision I firmly stood by - and successfully navigated - because I knew it was the right one for me. I wanted the chance to explore the world a little, find my place in it, and gain a firm sense of who I was in my own right before I had someone else utterly dependent on me. To be fair, I do see some benefits to being a younger parent, but - obviously - the benefits did not outweigh the cost in my particular case and opinion.

That being said, I find it incredibly insensitive and irritating when someone - friend or stranger - spends a significant amount of time trying to convince me that being a younger parent is infinitely better than being what they'd consider an "older" parent. It worked for you; that's great. I'm very happy for you and the fact that you are satisfied with your life choices. So, why do you feel the need to tear apart mine? Obviously it is too late for me to ever be a young parent, even if that were something I desired. So you telling me that I'm taking too long to have kids, or that I need to get a move on it before I'm 30, or that I won't have any energy to keep up with them, or that I'll never know my grandchildren, is really just mean. You are standing there, criticizing the choices I have made for myself and my life, for no reason other than the simple fact that they are different from yours.

I will turn 28 without any children, and without any marriages. But I will have 28 years of uninterrupted life experience; a Bachelor's degree from a University; three years of experience in my job field; steady and stable employment with plenty of opportunity for advancement; and a solid, supportive home life. These facts don't make me any better, or any worse than anyone who is married and/or a parent. They are just facts, pure and simple.

And yes, I love my life.