The other day, I was at my friend’s sister’s dinner party — she was throwing her husband a surprise birthday party — and I felt terribly immature. I mean, this girl had her LIFE together. She was married to an insanely good-looking engineer, owned an adorable new house in the country, had started her own dog adoption business and even had granite counter-tops in her kitchen. Oh, and she’s completely adorable too. Double oh — she’s 25.
So there I was, 24, nibbling a burnt butter frosting brownie and drinking a Honey Weiss in complete awe. I sat there staring at this girl’s adorable house, her foxy husband and discovered she had already done what she wanted with her life in such a short time. I was living at home and mooching her free booze, only one year younger.
While I was standing there in my North Face, a man about my age walked up to me. He actually looked like a thirty-year-old manbaby, but I digress.
“Hey, put on those sunglasses, I wanna see how they look on you.”
I slid the sunglasses on my head down to my eyes and fake smiled.
“I’ll give you twenty dollars to never wear those again.”
“Excuse me,” I said, “but I happen to love these sunglasses.” (For the record, they were tortoise cat-eye sunglasses. I thought I looked like a 60s movie star in them.)
“Seriously, twenty dollars.”
Feeling helpless, I blurted out, “I’ll give you twenty dollars to take that stupid hat off. There! How does that feel!?”
He put his arms up in surrender, “Hey lady, I’m married!”
The entire dinner party looks at us standing in the corner of the kitchen. My face turned the same color as the strawberries in the fruit bowl. Was he for real!? I was outraged he could spin the tables and make me look like a single chick sniffing out a married man. I cowered and walked away from the situation. Was I the only 24 year-old in that house without a spouse and a full set of dishes!?
The moral of this embarrassing coming-of-age story? It’s simple. We are all galloping along the same path. We may be the same age, but I took a turn down a different fork and found myself on the corner of Independence Avenue and Single Street. Just because I’m not married or a home/business owner doesn’t mean I need to feel sorry for myself.
I did cry under my tortoise cat-eye sunglasses that night, but I have a different calling. I must have a lot to get accomplished before I lead myself down their path.
Are your friends starting to pair off? Do you feel pressure to find someone and get married young? Is it wrong to not feel any rush to end the single life?
[Lead image via Yuri Arcurs/Shutterstock]