I have been told by men on several occasions in the past that I am beautiful, witty, wonderful, and amazing. If I am all that, then why am I not married?!
This is a question that used to bother my father, to which the answer remains elusive to this day.
My teachers in high school thought I would not finish my university education and that I would marry early. Let me just say that fortune telling is certainly not going to be a second career option for them.
10 years and 50 pounds ago, I had all the right ingredients to be considered “asawable” (good wife material); educated from a good university, a good family, a body to die for, and I can cook up a storm in the kitchen. I have made good use of my education, landed a good job, my family remains well respected in the community and I am still in shape (round is a shape the last time I looked). I am older and the one good thing about getting older is that now they don’t confuse my waistline for my age.
Does food have something to do with it? I just know how to appreciate food, and it shows. But how could I not find a husband when I can cook?! They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Unfortunately the best way to mine is also through the same route. Does this mean that for him to appreciate me, I would have to meet the ISO standards for ideal wife 9001?!
I want a man who is independent – from his mother – but cannot imagine life without me in it (if you hear a wicked laugh, you’re not imagining it). I want a man who would not love me for the rest of my life but would love me for the rest of his and tell the world about it. This is of course before I tell him that family tradition dictates that all relatives are invited to weddings, and that on my father’s side of the family alone I am related to some 3,000 people, not counting pets and the household help.
Or is it because I am independent? Is it the curse of independent women to scare away men? I have had my share of lovers who loved my freedom and independence – so much that they kept me free and unmarried up to now. I have had close calls, and almost took the road much traveled called marriage twice.
I have accepted two marriage proposals and to balance that, broke two as well. I thought I was ready for marriage, so why not make their lives interesting or miserable by marrying them at the time? Each time I broke off the relationship, I would ask myself, what is missing to what seemed to be a perfect ending to a courtship and the beginning of a new life with someone?
There are no excuses, only choices.
It is a choice to not be with someone when he does not complete you. There is nothing missing. I realized that it is possible that I can enjoy the company I keep in my solitude.
What can I do if I want someone with the look of Brad Pitt, the dry wit, okay, sarcasm of Simon Cowell, who sings like Bono, and would not blink if I asked for the crown jewels of England? I want someone who can match my reasoning, but one whom I could not step on, and twirl around my finger. One who is sure of himself even if he’s not perfect, but I won’t mind if he thinks I am.
I would rather stay undone than say I do, and be undone later.
The panic button has been pressed, and a clear indicator is my father wanting to raffle me off to the next man who comes along. If in the past he was so strict when it comes to me getting into a relationship, he now wants to give me away, with the title to our house thrown in as a bonus.
Until such time that I meet Mr. Right, maybe I can enjoy life with Mr. Right Now. Life has so much to offer, there’s no time to waste, only time to live it with joy and passion.
I hope that until that time comes, I can keep my wit, remain wonderful, continue to amaze, and since I plan to be fully plastic surgeoned by the time I’m sixty, be beautiful still, then maybe, just maybe, I just might get married.
When that happens, you’re all invited.