Wednesday, April 24, 2013
A recent teacher’s engagement at my school set the Teacher’s Lounge abuzz with excitement. Her 3rd Graders, even the boys could not wait to tell me. When the school year began, two co-workers were pregnant and have since welcomed precious bundles into the world. I rejoice with them. Events like these were bittersweet because I could offer heartfelt congratulations in one moment and brace myself for the onslaught of inquiries the next.
The Heat is On
The spotlight on the recently betrothed and brand-new mommies now turned on me. Only that light felt like I was a suspect in one of those old black & white crime films. An interrogation by Good Cop/Bad Cop followed. Blinded by the glare, sweating bullets, I crumbled under pressure. “I’m unmarried! No husband. No prospect in sight!” The legal pad slides across the table and I affix my signature.
Good Cop
At most weddings that I attended, I heard this one often, “You’re going to be next.” It didn’t matter in what capacity I was attending, member of the bridal party, hostess, or guest of the bride or groom. Was Jesse Jackson at the reception chanting “keep hope alive”? From their mouths to God’s ear. One prophecy that has yet to come to pass. I won’t be buying swampland or getting stock tips from those prognosticators. Yet another reminder of my then-perceived lack.
Bad Cop
Congratulations lingered when my baby sister and younger cousins got engaged. Questions and comments flew at me like a frisbee: “Are you going to let her beat you out?” “Folk should marry when they are young. Cause when you get old, don’t nobody want you.” This remark was part of the conversation on the way to a wedding reception.
Stacked Stats
I was well aware of the studies and TV talk shows stats that informed me of the lopsided ratio of women to men. How I needed to be extra vigilant about crossing any intersection in the vicinity of a bus because I was more likely to meet my demise flattened by mass transit than to get that ring. Either way, I would get to the church. On-time or in an untimely manner.
Since I’m not one to put the cart before the horse, no husband meant no babies. Yes, I knew that the number of my eggs was dwindling and on the verge of being powdered. My biological clock didn’t tick. It banged like a gong.
Perhaps I wore my What about me? t-shirt too often. I let the comments from others fuel my already burning, sometimes raging fire. I’ll admit to wishing it were me at times. But since it is not, I wish the brides and mommies well. I will get my spotlight elsewhere.
Do you ever fill pressured to explain why you are not dating, engaged or married? Share your thoughts in the comments.