An Ode to Being Unmarried and Childless

Yellow flower
Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n

I am in my late 30s, unmarried, and might never have a child.

My biological clock is past its prime, which means that if I ever get married, it might be too late to conceive naturally. Right now, I am in a complicated relationship that I am okay with since my ultimate goal is, anyway, not marriage. I had been tempted a few times to get married to partners in the past, but it never materialized. In a way, I am thankful that the mother universe did not grant me those wishes. If she did, I would have landed in some serious trouble. I wasn’t right for them, and they weren’t for me either. It was a two-way street of disappointment and incompatibility that new love often tends to cover up and sideline.

When love is new and all-things-dreamy, it overrides potential issues. Everything seems solvable, including toxicity. Over time, when you are “used” to this feeling of love, you start paying attention to the issues you had conveniently ignored the first time around. This is where the real test begins – when the honeymoon phase ends. For some, the dreaminess and butterflies linger on for life. For others, the relationship becomes a compromise. Some others, like myself, realize it is best to move on. I often wonder what my life would have been if I had succumbed to marriage in my honeymoon phase, only to realize later that we are incompatible. So, yes, I am thankful things did not work out the way I desperately wanted at that point in time.

Talking about universal manifestations reminds me of this profound poetry from Blythe Baird’s If My Body Could Speak. I found it very relatable.

Poem on theories of the universe by Blythe Baird
Theories About The Universe – Blythe Baird

So here I am in a world that is the polar opposite of my peers, taking it one day at a time, living on my own terms, dealing with my own demons, and at peace with my courteous angels. Frankly, you tend to become less flexible and stuck to your patterns at this age. Probably, this is why they tell you to marry early – so you can adjust to differences better.

Presently, I find it unbearable to let go of this freedom of choice and, mainly, the freedom from compromises of any kind. I don’t have to entertain people I don’t like just because they are my partner’s family. I don’t have to sweet-talk anyone because they are my child’s BFF’s parents. It’s the kind of freedom I have become attached to. It is, without a doubt, I am where I am for purely selfish (or self-love; there are many ways of looking at this) reasons and not for the “world” and “climate control” as is the norm nowadays. I believe you should only have children because you want to experience what it is like to raise a child. Not because you think you might end up lonely and definitely not because it’s what society demands.

When someone tells me I should get married and have children, I ask them why. Most often, the answer would be immediate, “So you don’t end up alone when you are old.” This answer is quite tricky. All around, I see partners who are “not there” entirely, caught up in their own busy worlds. I see senior citizens living alone, their children comfortably settled abroad or outside their native place. Marriage becomes a gamble when you get into it expecting “help.” You may or may not receive what you seek. The help we get from our children might mostly be financial. Then again, the senior citizens I see are well-off and are not entirely dependent on their children. I often wonder why we have to burden our kids with our expectations. Is that why we give birth to new beings – so that they can fulfill our demands? I consider myself selfish for not wanting to give up my freedom. But isn’t it equally selfish to burden someone with our expectations?

Returning to the question of “Who will take care of you?” It is a concern, yes. But what is the guarantee that a partner or child will provide us with the best care?

As a single woman who would probably prefer to be single all her life, I can’t help think about my future time-to-time. What would I do when I turn old? Right now, my mind is leaning towards a high-quality assisted living facility. This information is not to evoke pity or compassion but to keep an open mind about the practicality of it all. Such high-end centers are extremely senior-citizen-friendly – they have a doctor-on-call, in-house chefs that cater to your dietary restrictions, people who help you with grocery and chores, wheelchair-friendly living quarters, and much more. The paid caregivers would be more interested in helping you than anyone near you. In an assisted living environment, people are trained to deal with elderly issues. Since it’s a job, they will try to give it their best. Moreover, you are surrounded by people your age, and they would be more interested in talking to you than someone younger.

Of course, you need to forego some luxuries in real-time to afford this. I am in half a mind to buy a new property (to show everyone I can). But the sensible half wants to hold that thought so I could pool the money into my “assisted living fund.”

Why can’t I stay with my family, you ask? Though our loved ones adore us, no one can be at our beck and call 24×7 without losing their sanity. Over time, my family might understandably grow bitter (even if they love me) due to exhaustion, frustration, and lack of freedom that comes with taking care of my needs, which could be both mental and physical. Such pressure can ultimately ruin a perfectly healthy relationship.

That’s how I look at it – I rather someone take care of me mindfully than grudgingly out of a false sense of obligation.

An Ode to the Kind Stranger at the Café

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels

A bitter argument.

A door slam.

An empty apartment. A heavy heart.

Tears. Surplus tears.

Misery spanning the entire morning and half of afternoon.

No breakfast, no lunch; hunger killed by words as sharp as a knife.

Hunger killed by somatic brashness.

Soul crushing, sky falling, world burning.

It feels like death – this beginning of the end.

Death of a person still very much alive.

Death of a marriage.

Death of love.

I push myself up. Wiping away tears.

I head outdoors.

I walk aimlessly, like a lost soul.

I see a small café.

Self-care beckons.

I should eat something.

An order placed with gloom. Face full of despair.

Eyes down. Gaze lowered. No strength to face anyone.

No strength to smile.

A cup of coffee and a sandwich.

The order arrives.

I lift my gaze. It makes me smile.

The coffee has something drawn on top.

A heart.

A beautiful little heart.

Intrigued, I look at other cups around me.

No, this one is just for me.

In a sea of deep, numbing pain, it felt like a wave of comfort.

A compassionate message.

A comforting hug.

I look around for the waiter.

I spot him. At a corner.

Working but eyes fixed on me.

He smiles compassionately.

I smile back.

Warmth.

A sign that the world is not so bad after all.

A sign that I’ll be okay – even if it’s the beginning of the end.

Context: The magic of kindness. A stranger I’ve never met before provided me hope on the most hopeless of days. I never met him after that. The incident happened years ago, but I still think of it fondly. I feel a cocktail of emotions whenever I flashback to that moment in the café. It still makes me teary-eyed. It still makes me smile.

An Ode to Staying Unmarried Forever

Photo by Vlada Karpovich on Pexels

I am in my late 30s, and I might never get married.

Initially, I wanted to. I terribly did. When I was in my teens, I never pictured myself as an unmarried woman with no children. In my dreams, I had a dashing husband, the cutest of kids, and all the usual, regular mush coated with a sugary sweetness that had the full potential to make anyone diabetic.

Then life happened.

Life happens for everyone of course, but for me, my journey took a complete U-turn from what I expected.

I did not get a dreamy husband.

I was not a dreamy wife.

I did not get any dreamy children.

My fairy tale turned out to be a horror story in disguise.. and I got divorced.

I thought my life was going to end. How is a woman in her late 20s going to live without a husband? It used to hurt initially. The thought that life would be so unfair, blessing others with the good things in life while I was left with nothing but despair, was too much for me to fathom. A desolate soul in search of a deeper meaning in the form of marital status – that was me.

In hindsight, I never enjoyed my marital life – if you take away the husband part of it as well. The regular chores, and the responsibilities, made me think, “Is this what I am going to do the rest of my life?” I had no time for hobbies, things that mattered to me, my work, or anything that kept me alive, active, and fulfilled. Marital life is indeed a busy world, and you should not step into it unless you are ready to take on the responsibilities, compromises, and adjustments that come with cohabitation.

I was never ready for it.

Within a few years of my divorced life, I realized how much I was adjusting and compromising in my married life. When I left the relationship, it was as if a chain was broken, and I finally attained wings to fly. This freedom felt like finally finding water in a desert. My thirst, however, did not get quenched. Instead, I found it ever-increasing. The thirst to enjoy the things I want, the thirst to not be answerable to anyone for the first time in my life, the thirst to just be. It was liberating, it was extraordinary, and it felt like love. I never knew love in the form of freedom. I thought love could only be found in people. It took a break from one kind of love for me to discover another. The type of love that I had never experienced before because all through my life I was told: “marriage is important.”

I never realized a woman could live without getting married. I have seen others living a content life without tying the knot, but I used to look at them with compassion. The thought that marriage is mandatory and the only thing that can make a woman happy was so ingrained and indoctrinated in me that any other way of living was callously dismissed.

Why did it take a divorce for me to find freedom? The answer might be that the people in my vicinity finally stopped pressurizing me to get into something I was not comfortable with i.e., marriage.

Note the usage of the word “unmarried” instead of “single.” A good relationship is like a cherry on the cake. It is a bonus—a plus. But I feel if a relationship is what makes you feel “complete,” then it would mean that you are lacking otherwise. This is far from the truth. We should celebrate individuality as much as coupledom, if not more. In the end, it all boils down to choice. There is never really one single right path. But you should have the complete freedom to choose the path you desire.

My dream is no longer marriage. It feels like I have seen the other side, and now I choose the other side – the path less taken. My dream is now to selfishly enjoy my freedom till the end of life. To those wondering how the path is – it is not easy. It is definitely not easy. You always have this big FOMO because everyone around you is following a path entirely different from yours – they find someone they love, they marry, and they live happily(?) ever after.

What happens when you don’t marry? For a reclusive person like me, it is a journey of self-discovery, freedom, and fulfillment. For another, it might be that of melancholy. It truly is subjective. But it is a life that is definitely worthy, liveable, and sustainable.

To end this with the ever-famous lines by Robert Frost:

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

An Ode to Love Languages

My 5 Love Languages Test Result

The 5 Love Languages Test is something I stumbled across recently. Give it a go if you have nothing better to do this weekend. Mine is quite accurate, quality time is an absolute essential for me.

The whole idea behind the quiz is that love languages can clash: your way of showing love is not your partner’s way. For example, gifts are not a must for me at all. Just some quality time would do. This need not be the same for everyone. I know many who absolutely adore gifts. Some like a lot of physical touch, whereas others don’t. Some would want words of affirmation, whereas for others actions mean a lot more than words.

I believe knowing your partner’s love language can help in understanding them better. Why they don’t express the way you want them to, why the things you do are never enough for them etc. Maybe how you display love is different from their perception of love. Different people, different wants.

Maybe the love is there, but we are not seeing it because we are scrutinizing it with our own definition of love.