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Racing
toward love Strapped! Mommy
Diarist The
Guilty Bride Introducing
… IndieEtiquette Bride,
Unhinged When
Wedding Dresses Attack! Book
Review: The Artful Bride The
B-word My
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Marriage of My Own Why
I Popped the Question My
Wedding, My Way Happily
Ever After Am
I Really That Single? -----------
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I used to relish being single. But now that everyone around me is getting married, I'm not sure I want to be quite so independent. By Michelle Hainer Winter 2003 | I've always been okay with being single. That is, until one by one, my childhood friends announced that they were getting married. Even though I'm only 24, I started getting the sinking feeling that if I didn't meet my true love soon, I might never find him. Calling my newly betrothed friend Christie on her 25th birthday didn't help much. We'd been imagining our mid-twenties since we were 12 so it was hard to believe she had actually gotten there already. "I know," she replied when I pointed this out to her. "I'd be really depressed right now if I weren't getting married." Somebody please shoot me. Until recently, I'd never really thought of myself as the marrying kind. Unlike most of my friends in the small Connecticut town where I grew up, my future did not unequivocally include a husband and 2-4 children. In fact, while they were thinking up names for their offspring, I was fantasizing about living in New York, working at a glossy magazine, and living a glamorous, fast-paced life . And that's exactly what I did. I got a journalism degree from NYU, found an apartment in downtown Manhattan, and became a staff writer at Teen People. Back home in Connecticut, my friends got involved in the kinds of serious relationships that ultimately lead to marriage. I, on the other hand, became a serial dater. Every week I'd go out with a different guy. I'd meet them at bars, at the park and even on the train. And while they've all been nice enough (okay, maybe not all of them) they never amount to more than a passing fling. In fact, I've never had a serious relationship, probably because I am completely commitment phobic. I've always had this notion that being exclusive with someone ultimately means losing part of yourself, that somehow my goals or desires would be compromised if I was part of a couple. And yet watching my friends pair off has made me question whether being so independent is what I ultimately want. Watching the closeness and security that they have with their fianc˙s makes me long for that kind of intimacy and companionship myself. Lately, I find myself sizing up every date as a potential husband -- and then quickly ditching them if they don't fit the bill. Do they have an appreciation for books? Are they good conversationalists? Passionate about their work? Will they take me out for romantic dinners, or just ply with me drinks in the hopes that I'll go home with them? There's a lot to consider. But I don't always envy the responsibility that goes along with the ring. As the maid of honor for two friends, I've had more than a few conversations about the merits of hiring a band over a DJ, how important it really is to get married in a church, or if red is a good color for bridesmaids dresses. But just as often, I've listened to my friends express real fears and concerns about entering into a union that is supposed to last forever. One of them calls me at least once a week to complain about her future mother in law's stubbornness, or how she worries whether she and her husband to be will be able to live together without a trial run. All of which makes me further appreciate the fact that, on most days, the most difficult decision my single friends and I have to make is whether to order a martini or a vodka tonic when we meet for drinks. But lately while my friends and I are sipping those martinis, we're talking about our single status. Every time one of us mentions a co-worker or friend over 30 who isn't married, my friend Tal moans "God, please don't let that happen to me!" Even our most cosmopolitan comrade, Marisa, is headed down the aisle. It shouldn't be a surprise -- Marisa and her fianc˙ have been dating since high school. But with her super trendy style and her dreams of making it in the fashion world, Marisa perfectly embodies the single city sophisticate. I feel the passing of our Monday night martini ritual every time I look at the save the date card I got at her engagement party. I admit it -- I feel remorse about all of these wives-to-be. We've shared bad date stories and spent Saturday nights eating ice cream and watching movies together for years. What will happen once they have husbands, and God forbid, children? Will they be able to meet and get drunk after work? Will they be able to talk to me on the phone in the middle of the night if I'm having a crisis? Will we have anything in common anymore? And while my single friends and I are having a great time going out and meeting lots of guys, part of me worries that one day I'll be the only one of my friends without a partner, that I'll only have my career to keep me company. But for all of the time I spend worrying about marriage (my own and those of my friends) I know deep down that I'm not ready for it yet. I'm too young and I have a lot more living and growing up to do before I settle down. That doesn't mean I don't dream about the day when I meet a smart, sexy, man who makes me feel beautiful every time he looks at me. Until then, a part of me wonders: will I be "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride?" I used to believe I didn't care. But now I think I might. ----------- Michelle Hainer is a staff writer at Teen People.
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