Women Who Marry Are Traitors To The Cause Of Singledom

Coming out to your single friends that you want to cling to a man like a panda is very difficult. Outing yourself as a woman in love to those who have done everything and everyone is only for the brave of heart. Look for signs of enthusiasm about your new couple status and you will be met with a perfectly manicured raised eyebrow. You know us. We have time on our hands. Single girls are the only ones who keep spa retreats in business. Cynicism sure looks good on us.

This time, you plead, it’s for real. As was the last time and the time before that, they point out. Yes but I really feel differently now. Sure, they sigh, preparing to bail you out and administer wine and headache tablets when it’s over. I don’t blame them. No one puts as much hard work into a relationship as your friends. They have to spend so much time talking over your problems with you, no wonder it puts them off ever being part of a couple themselves.

No, they don’t know why a man never puts the toilet seat down or has to be reminded of special occasions he fails to recognise as having any significance at all, like anniversaries and birthdays. No, they don’t know how to make a man talk if he doesn’t want to, try shining a lamp on his face or fastening him to an electric chair. Yes, it must be wonderful to be in love, they smile, with their fingers crossed behind their backs. They’ve had to clap and cheer at every dress rehearsal of a relationship you’ve had. They’ve been hanging around Broadway for years and never had a ticket for the show. You can’t hate them for being slightly bored.

Single people hang out with each other to avoid being asked questions. It’s a dodge to stall inquiries about why we’ve never settled down. As far as we can make out, the whole world is making an investigative report into why we remain unmarried, childless and sexually available. Our freedom to shag seems to worry almost everybody apart from us. In the eyes of others, we’re just one big fat ovary waiting to happen.

Singledom is a great cause. It might not be up there with feeding the starving or preventing homelessness but those of us who are successfully single see it more like a life choice.
We follow the rules like disciples. Have loads of sex and enjoy your precious alone time. Your pals are the only relationships you’ll ever need. So when one of us decides to get hitched, and wave goodbye to singledom, as if it’s a disease they are finally cured of, we feel betrayed. She’s gone, to the land of rainbows and doves and fluffy angel clouds and what’s more we’ll have to help choose her a dress that puts her somewhere between Tinkerbell and the fairy godmother.

Losing a member of the single crowd is like suffering bereavement. It’s a shock, a slap in the face. You never think it will happen. And things will never be the same again. It’s the end of an era. Even in Sex and the City, the staunchly single settle down. In the way the series has ended, we feel that our friendship as singles is history.

Women who marry are traitors; they have finally decided that they need a man after all. It’s enough to make you choke on your meal for one. We always thought it was possible to stay single and to be able to avoid the disappointment, pain and confusion of dealing with men on a romantic level. We resigned ourselves to the fact long ago that men are no better than domestic pets, make sure they’re fed and get out for some air now and again. I don’t like pets. They’re hairy and mess up the furniture. Take a look over there at your man. See what I mean?

When one us opt out to become a dependent we have to start thinking about our singledom. We have to honestly wonder if being single is not a state of mind but what you are before you meet the love of your life. This is a scary idea. It means we’re buying time not just shoes.
When you next see a gaggle of women hanging out together, bitching about men and not having to rush back for the kids, give us a smile.

We are having the best possible fun without Anne Summer’s help. Like all sex in the city, or in the countryside, it was great while it lasted. We may lose one of our flock now and again, but we stick together like preening birds of a feather. Not for us the cooing sounds of love. We’ll carry on as normal, chilling out wherever we can grab a big cocktail, and if we’re lucky, we might pick one up too.