I've officially reached that age in my life when it's expected of me to settle down, get married, and start popping out offspring. Everywhere I look, people my age are showing off their wedding photos or shoving their snotty-nosed child into my arms. It's like, once you graduate college, the next natural step of progression is a cookie-cutter house in the suburbs, a 9 to 5 job, and a regular visit to Bed, Bath & Beyond on the weekends.
"This is Little Sarah's first ballet recital." Oh, that's nice. This is me doing a body shot off a hooker.I made up my mind long ago that a) I really have no desire to get married and b) I do not want children. It's one thing for a man to say this; it's entirely another thing for a woman to say this. You would not believe the double standard I have faced when telling people I don't want kids. For a man, the sentiment is, Oh, you're just not ready yet. It's okay, some day you will be. For a woman, it's more like, You don't want kids? What's wrong with you? You're so selfish! Are you infertile? The look on their faces goes from one of shock to inquisitive to disgust.
It's like, people cannot fathom someone (particularly a woman) not wanting kids. Listen, I understand how wonderful children make your life (as you have told me numerous times), but some women are just not the motherly types. It doesn't make me any less of a compassionate human being; it just means I enjoy sleeping in until 11am and then quietly enjoying a cup of coffee over several reruns of The Golden Girls on Lifetime without a toddler screaming at me because they can't find their pacifier or whatever the hell else it is that kids scream about.
One thing I always hear is: "Kids are a beautiful part of life. They give meaning to the world."
Yeah, you know what else is a beautiful part of life? My ass. You could bounce a quarter off this thing. You pop out three kids and tell me you can do the same thing.
"Well, if I had the amount of free time you do, then I'm sure I could work out just as much as you."
Probably, yeah. But as it is, you have kids and no free time. Is that my fault? No. You chose to have them so quit trying to make me feel bad for choosing not to have them.
"It must be nice to have all of that free time, that's all I'm saying."
It is really nice, actually. In fact, just this afternoon I had an intense internal debate on whether I should get my hair or my nails done, then got so tired from all the thinking that I took a nap instead. And it was glorious.
Social networking has also made it a lot easier for people to shove pictures of their kids in my face. So for every picture of a small child I am forced to look at, I put up a picture of me doing something where it would be illegal for a small child to be present.
"This is Little Sarah's first ballet recital."
Oh, that's nice. This is me doing a body shot off a hooker.
"We just bought the kids a new swing set. John spent all Saturday afternoon putting it together. Isn't it great?"
Looks good. Here's a picture of the new 40-inch hi-def television I just purchased with all the money I saved by not having a kid. I'm going to go out on a limb and say John would've much rather spent Saturday afternoon watching my television than putting together that swing set. That's all I'm saying.
I'm also finding it a lot more difficult to focus when I'm having conversations with my friends who do have children. Not because they can't stop talking about Billy's bedwetting habits, but because I'm still hungover from the night before.
If I wanted a husband, I could get a husband. It's not that hard to trick a man into marrying you. "Did you go out AGAIN last night? It was Wednesday, for Christ's sake."
Yeah, well Wednesdays are all-you-can-eat wing night at Hooters. Oh, I meant to ask, how was "Disney Princesses on Ice"? That was last night, wasn't it?
"Oh yeah, well, you know how Maryanne loves The Little Mermaid. We were out so late, poor girl was passed out in the car by nine."
That's so funny, I was passed out by nine too. Although I'm guessing Maryanne's "pass out" didn't involve vomit and the toilet at The Rusty Bucket.
Of course, the older you get, the more boring monotony is expected of you. As a woman, despite it being 2011, you are still expected to become a Stepford Wife or some variation thereof. If you choose to have a career over being a mother/housewife, you are selfish and only care about your own needs. Listen, just because I have more free time, earn extra money, and enjoy peaceful evenings alone in my apartment doesn't mean I'm not jealous of the fact that you have a husband to vent to, kids to cook for and… hahahaha, just kidding. I couldn't finish that sentence without laughing.
It's also around this time when the comments start:
"Well, you aren't married because you obviously can't keep a man around long enough to make him your husband."
If I wanted a husband, I could get a husband. It's not that hard to trick a man into marrying you. If I wanted a boyfriend, I could get a boyfriend. I don't measure my value by whether or not I have a man in my life. You shouldn't either, ladies. I can't tell you the number of married/taken men that have hit on me or one of my girlfriends. I'm not saying I am anything special, I'm saying that putting your full worth into another human being is a stupid thing to do.
"You're going to die miserable and alone."
Yes, I've actually heard this comment before when I say that I don't want to get married or have children. And maybe I will die miserable and alone, but it will be on a bed of all the money I saved by not getting married or having children.
My point is, some women are the marrying kind and some aren't. Some of us want kids, some of us don't. It doesn't make someone any less of a female for wanting one thing versus another. Also, if I did get married and have kids, I wouldn't be able to write about my embarrassing drunken, single escapades each week in this column. And my liver and I aren't quite ready to give that up just yet.