Single in a World of Pairs

Can we all take a moment out of our busy schedules to contemplate the plight of the single woman in today’s society?

No, I’m not talking about the single woman who keeps bemoaning the fact that she keeps dating losers, man-children, and the guys who hit it and quit it. I’m also not talking about the single woman who keeps going on about “I need a man who” has a job, isn’t high all the time, won’t beat the crap out of me. Those are entirely different problems.

I’m talking about the single woman who is happy with her life and doesn’t feel that adding a man to the situation will make her happier.

Hi. I’m Jill Horton and I’m single because I want to be.

And I’m sick and tired of hearing “you just haven’t met the right guy yet”. I’ve met lots of perfectly nice men, and I’ve even dated some of them. Hey, for that matter I’ve dated a few nice women, too. I’m just not interested in tangling my life up with someone else.

No, I haven’t had my heart broken. I haven’t been hurt, emotionally or physically by a guy. And my father is a fantastic person and dad, thank you very much.

I’d like people to stop asking me if I’m dating anyone new. I’d like them to stop asking when I’m going to settle down and have a few kids. I’d like people to stop implying that I haven’t grown up just because I haven’t gotten married and/or popped out a baby.

I’d like to know where man who’s been married and divorced multiple times thinks they have the right to question my choice to stay single.

Mostly I’d like people to stop acting like I’m defective because I’m single and in my thirties.

I have interests, hobbies and goals that keep me occupied. I have a job. I’m trying to find a job that will make use of one or both of the degrees that I got while I was busy being single. I volunteer at Sci-Fi/Comic conventions and get to meet some fantastic people that I’d never get the chance to talk to in any other situation. I create things. I craft and I write and I draw. I enjoy going for target practice. I like to get out into nature and take photographs.

I have a life.

And I don’t think I’m missing anything just because I don’t have a man taking up space in that life.

To the women who do feel that something is missing in their lives when they don’t have a romantic partner, I wish you all the best of luck finding a wonderful one.

Just stop treating people like me, who are single because we want to be single, as if we’re somehow defective because we don’t feel like there is a person shaped hole in our lives.

Who knows? I may some day find someone I want to make a space in my life for, and I might want them to make a space for me in their life.

But I’m not going to go man hunting just because we live in a society that says I need one and I should want one.

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Aging Resistant Culture

At what point did aging become something we aren’t supposed to do? And something we should be ashamed of when it does happen? When our hair starts going grey we’re supposed to dye it, and having our roots show is a fate worse than wrinkles. Except we’re not supposed to get those either. Our skin isn’t supposed to sag and the gods of media forbid that our butts and busts start heading south. Losing your hair? There’s an app for that! Or at least there are medications, oral and topical, for that as well as surgical options.

But why? Why all the dyes, creams, lotions, pills, lifts and tucks? When did aging become a horrible illness?

Ah, probably always. The myths and legends of things like the Fountain of Youth, ambrosia, and various golden fruits have been around since before recorded human history.

The problem is that it’s now a big business. The cosmetics industry is laughing all the way to the bank because of our obsession with looking younger for longer. And they’re using advertising to make us feel insecure about time’s effect on us. Getting old is not longer proof that we’ve survived, it’s almost a social crime. We spend the first two decades of our lives trying to grow up, then we spend the rest of our lives trying to convince everyone that we’re still young.

Y’know what? My hair is starting to go grey. My waist is thicker than it was ten years ago. I’ve never had a butt, and my bust lost the battle with gravity a long time ago. I’ve got a frown line between my eyebrows, creases in my forehead, and I’m starting to get crow’s feet at the corners of my eyes. But other than generally take care of myself, I’m not planning to do a damn thing about it.

Because I am getting older. And there’s nothing wrong with that.