Summer is coming. This means one thing- wedding season. Yes the sun comes out and everybody gets married. Now, don’t get me wrong I love weddings; the excuse to buy a new dress, shoes, bag… etc, the free food and drink. I think if I ever get married, it will be one massive excuse for a festival themed party with hay bales and a candy floss machine (Yes I have planned my wedding. Yes it will be festival themed. No I haven’t found anyone brave enough to marry me)
However , there is one aspect of these lovely celebrations that are starting to become more and more of a problem. The plus one- or lack of. I had an invitation drop through my letter box about six months ago; it was from my cousin and his fiancé inviting me to his wedding along with a plus one. A plus one?! I hadn’t even considered that I would be able to bring a ball and chain. I replied to my cousin ASAP and upon being told there was no plus one, he sweetly informed me that I wasn’t to worry. I had six months to find one. I wasn’t aware I HAD to bring one. I’m beginning to wonder, am I perhaps not viewed as a proper adult due to lack of plus one? Is it strange I don’t have one? Am I perhaps slightly immature for not even considering that I should bring a date? Besides, no one batted an eyelid when I didn’t have a date for prom. I was 16 then.
I mentioned this to my Mother, who replied “Well, you’re nearly 25 darling” Is that it then? Is that how my worth is going to be measured; on the basis of whether I have a plus one or not? Would people react the same way if my brother didn’t have a plus one? I’m not sure they would, I have never seen a negative response to his single status. It was always met with comments such as “He’s working hard, aren’t you?” “He’s saving money” “He’s focusing on other things”
For him, his success is measured by the promotions he receives, the new car he bought, or how much he earns. Which isn’t right either, but why is it that if he’s not in a relationship it is not considered the end of the world, where for me, as a woman, peoples main interest in my life is whether or not I have a boyfriend, or why I don’t have children yet like other girls my age. As if my womb is all I have to offer. No one mentions the vast sums of money I raised to fund a voluntary trip to Africa, no one mentions the theatre pieces I wrote exploring women’s rights, or the expensive watch I bought with my first ever pay check. Maybe it’s just the generation gap, but oh how I would love for my success as an adult woman to be measured by my personal achievements, not by whether I have a male counterpart.
I guess until then I’ll be on the kids table. That’s fine by me. I won’t have to share the table’s bottle of champers that way.