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always a bridesmaid.
| by: Victoria Handysides | April 25, 2009 2:58 AM | comments: (6) |
Actually, that’s not true.
I’ve never been a bridesmaid – a side effect of having predominantly male friends. Recently discussing his eventual wedding to his lady love, my good friend Ryan decided he wanted me to stand up for him at his wedding, unsure (truly) if I’d have to wear a tux. Cute, and I can’t say I mind. I’ve been behind the scenes and behind a camera at enough weddings to know that women that get suckered into being bridesmaids have to deal with, and can create, a ton of unnecessary drama. Beware the stem cell sucking, estrogen-propelled hydra she-creatures that are spawned by wedding preparations – for the love of God.
However, having made it to my mid-twenties without being tricked into standing up for a bride, karma is finally rearing its omnipresent head, and striking back with a vengeance.
My beautiful sister will be married in less than two weeks, and has asked me to be her maid of honour. Eep.
Thankfully, a more hassle-free family, I could not have. About a dozen of us are taking off to Vegas, all details taken care of by a company that creates wedding packages. Brilliant. Save a few shopping trips, a delay in beginning my impending sleeve tattoo, and the most minimal relative-related headaches, the entire process has been Kool and the Gang.
Someone asked me the other day if it bothered me that I wasn’t getting married, too. I looked back, puzzled, it never having occurred to me to be bothered. Bothered? What for?
I’m not against marriage, far from. However, it’s never been a measure of how I gauge my success, or the success of anyone else. This mentality is a relatively new phenomenon in a generation of North Americans growing increasingly self-sufficient.
Even as recent as the 1970s, pairing off young was the norm. Our parents were raised by a generation of parents who paired off even younger. It was still common in the 20th century for teenage girls to marry, and bizarre for a girl to stay single past a certain age. Even my mom was married and had two kids by the time she was my age.
Modern research by the Center for Law and Social Policy shows that those (especially women) who marry young are less likely to finish their education, retain less independence, gather limited life experience, and are more likely to crash and burn with divorce within a decade.
So, no, not only am I not bothered, I’m thrilled about singledom. Love is wonderful, but there’s a certain dignity in going stag.
Ten cool things about being single:
- Pseudo-dates with friends. It’s easy to absorb the pheromones and charms of the opposite sex without awkward hand-holding or teeth-pulling ‘let’s get to know each other’ convo.
- Not having to shave your legs or wear something other than a t-shirt and sweats to bed. Not a pretty picture, but too bad. Women don’t put themselves through esthetic torture patterns because WE think it’s necessary. Same goes for cleaning. If I don’t want to clean my apartment for two weeks, it’s largely okay.
- Picking up, flirting with, or (gasp) sleeping with whoever you want, guilt-free.
- Not having to cross-reference your schedule before making after work/weekend plans. No “I have to see what WE’RE up to,” prefaces.
- Getting the whole bed.
- Not having to share a bathroom or wait to have a shower.
- Watching whatever you want on TV.
- No obligatory visits with partner’s friends partners, or your in-laws.
- No need to explain mood swings, or what you REALLY meant by that comment.
- Checking out strangers for as long as you want without having to hide it.
I’ve never been a bridesmaid – a side effect of having predominantly male friends. Recently discussing his eventual wedding to his lady love, my good friend Ryan decided he wanted me to stand up for him at his wedding, unsure (truly) if I’d have to wear a tux. Cute, and I can’t say I mind. I’ve been behind the scenes and behind a camera at enough weddings to know that women that get suckered into being bridesmaids have to deal with, and can create, a ton of unnecessary drama. Beware the stem cell sucking, estrogen-propelled hydra she-creatures that are spawned by wedding preparations – for the love of God.
However, having made it to my mid-twenties without being tricked into standing up for a bride, karma is finally rearing its omnipresent head, and striking back with a vengeance.
My beautiful sister will be married in less than two weeks, and has asked me to be her maid of honour. Eep.
Thankfully, a more hassle-free family, I could not have. About a dozen of us are taking off to Vegas, all details taken care of by a company that creates wedding packages. Brilliant. Save a few shopping trips, a delay in beginning my impending sleeve tattoo, and the most minimal relative-related headaches, the entire process has been Kool and the Gang.
Someone asked me the other day if it bothered me that I wasn’t getting married, too. I looked back, puzzled, it never having occurred to me to be bothered. Bothered? What for?
I’m not against marriage, far from. However, it’s never been a measure of how I gauge my success, or the success of anyone else. This mentality is a relatively new phenomenon in a generation of North Americans growing increasingly self-sufficient.
Even as recent as the 1970s, pairing off young was the norm. Our parents were raised by a generation of parents who paired off even younger. It was still common in the 20th century for teenage girls to marry, and bizarre for a girl to stay single past a certain age. Even my mom was married and had two kids by the time she was my age.
Modern research by the Center for Law and Social Policy shows that those (especially women) who marry young are less likely to finish their education, retain less independence, gather limited life experience, and are more likely to crash and burn with divorce within a decade.
So, no, not only am I not bothered, I’m thrilled about singledom. Love is wonderful, but there’s a certain dignity in going stag.
Ten cool things about being single:
- Pseudo-dates with friends. It’s easy to absorb the pheromones and charms of the opposite sex without awkward hand-holding or teeth-pulling ‘let’s get to know each other’ convo.
- Not having to shave your legs or wear something other than a t-shirt and sweats to bed. Not a pretty picture, but too bad. Women don’t put themselves through esthetic torture patterns because WE think it’s necessary. Same goes for cleaning. If I don’t want to clean my apartment for two weeks, it’s largely okay.
- Picking up, flirting with, or (gasp) sleeping with whoever you want, guilt-free.
- Not having to cross-reference your schedule before making after work/weekend plans. No “I have to see what WE’RE up to,” prefaces.
- Getting the whole bed.
- Not having to share a bathroom or wait to have a shower.
- Watching whatever you want on TV.
- No obligatory visits with partner’s friends partners, or your in-laws.
- No need to explain mood swings, or what you REALLY meant by that comment.
- Checking out strangers for as long as you want without having to hide it.
A real-life analysis on how we attract, repel, and disgust one another, unintentionally, shamefully, or deserving of high fives. While she is a writer, the author is no expert, nor does she claim to be. "Just another value shopper wandering through the meet market..."
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