It’s kinda ridiculous how much your mindset can change over just one year.
When I was 22-years-old, I was considered a baby. Barely born.
Suddenly at 23, now I’m expected (or have no way around) to filing my tax returns, fulfilling my civic duty as a jury member and (gasp!) paying for my own credit card bills.
And while this is the expected unavoidable rite of passage into adulthood, the one thing I did not expect – especially so rapidly – was the sudden self- and society-inflicted pressure of getting married.
It’s surprising even to me when I hear myself say out loud when my last relationship was.
“Four years ago.”
My God, what was I doing for four years?! The last time I answered that question over an office cocktail hour, I felt like I was synonymously saying, “I checked myself into a convent.”
Just a year ago, I was so willing to try a fling or go on a date – yet now meeting a guy is never casual as my psycho mind goes through the inevitable checklist of whether the dude is Marriage Material.
1. Does he have any obvious addictions to video games, cigarettes or drugs?
2. Does he drink obsessively? Could he become an alcoholic once the stresses of paying mortgages and having kids become overwhelming?
3. Is he an only child? Does that mean he has a tendency to be selfish and think of himself first?
4. Is he the youngest? Does that mean he is and forever will be a momma’s boy and expect you to fulfill that role (with benefits, of course)?
5. Can he cook? Will he expect you to be a housewife, otherwise?
6. Does he have a job? Is he in debt? Does he have bad credit?
7. Does he pick up the tab just enough to show that he’s generous, or does he pick it up too frequently and show that he’s financially irresponsible?
It’s utterly ridiculous to think of these questions on a first date but sadly, the mental checklist ensues, because I’m 23-years-old.
Despite the desperate desire for some women of our current century wanting to hold on to their singlehood for as long as possible with the freedom of pursuing their career first and family last, the horrifying spike of prenatal diseases when becoming pregnant after 30 lends an unforgiving timeline for the career-woman-who-also-wants-to-be-a-mother-someday.
That “someday” is actually when you’re 30 … 29 to be safe. So thus begins, what I like to call, the Backwards Countdown.
All women do this. The starting age might be different. But starting from when their ideal first pregnancy would be, they count backwards to how long they would want to be married with their husband before forever introducing another life in to the family. Going conservative on the numbers, let’s say that you want to be married for at least a year before giving birth. That brings you to 28. Then you’d want to be engaged for another year (if only to have enough time to plan the proper wedding of your dreams) — that brings us to 27. You’d want to be dating the otherwise relative stranger for at least two years before committing to a life together. That’s 25.
I’m 23…and a half. So I have approximately one year and three months to find the person that I’m supposed to spend the rest of my earthly life with if going by my ideal timeline.
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I’ve convinced my guy friends to watch “Black Swan” (a winner) and “Blue Valentine” (a loser) with me as my girlfriends have boyfriends and my guy friends have … me.
After watching the trailer for the upcoming Mila Kunis movie, I IM-ed Eric, “‘Friends with Benefits’ looks good! Let’s go watch that next!”
He responded, “Ew. Go get a boyfriend. Don’t make us suffer.”
Ha ha ha … I’m laughing on the inside.
