I'm hours away from turning 31. Should I celebrate or mourn?
Over a year ago, I was visiting my 8-month pregnant sister in Hawaii. Upon first meeting her mother-in-law, she verified that I am older than my sister, then asked in a somewhat accusatory manner, "Why are you still single?" "Gee, nice to meet you too, " is how I wanted to answer, but instead, I said, "Yeah. See. I think you need to get a date before you can consider life long commitment." I even seem to remember her commenting that I "wasn't so bad," but perhaps that's only a fictionalized memory my mind created to console my self-depricating soul.
About a year ago, my family had a gathering, and a distant relative wondered whether our next social get together would be to celebrate my wedding. I quickly replied, "Well, I guess we won't be seeing each other for a while." My mom attempted to come to my rescue by explaining my state of singleness as being a result of lack of focus - I had to make my first million (dollars, that is, not rejected dates) before considering marriage. Given my current reliance on unemployment insurance and my full time commitment to equity research volunteerism and pottery class, she may need to come up with a new defense.
And just the other day on a flight from NYC to Chicago, I was enjoying my window seat engrossed in reading YM. Yes, you read that correctly, YM. Since I one day hope to make money as an equity research analyst, my reading selection which may at first seem to represent arrested development is really a form of market research. Buried in an article about how to determine whether a boy has a crush on me (I'm sticking with my market research excuse for reading), I am interrupted by the man seated next to me.
My neighbor was surprised to learn that I was born in San Francisco, for I look Asian. I didn't want to engage him anymore by explaining the differences between ethnicity and nationality. The nosey man wanted to know what I did for a living. Hell, at this point in my life, the answer to that quiestion is more complex and profound than the answer to why I'm still single. I simply stated that I was unemployed, hoping to appeal to his non-existent sympathy such that he would not ask any further questions. After all, he didn't seem to be a partner at Goldman Sachs or Fidelity, and I wanted to get back to my important market research.
He offered his advice that as a woman who was probably 22 years old, I needed to see the world and expand my mind because I am still naive and learning. I told him that was actually not 22 and that I had seen much of the world and spent many years in school. When he learned of my age, he proceeded to tell me that I must devote my efforts to finding a husband. My body is made for child bearing, and I didn't have much time left. My life would not be complete without having children.
At this point, I'm yawning as obviously as I can and reaching for my earphones. I distracted myself by watching an episode of Frasier - the one where he's unemployed and going through the stages of grief.
I laughed, mostly because I generally recognize the stages and can proudly say I'm probably happier now than I have been in a while. Sure, I have no job and no one is hiring. My stock portfolio is down, and my weight is up. But at age 31, I'm coming into my own. My "mind has expanded" and the blind jackass throught I looked 22. Sure, maybe his powers of observation regarding my chosen reading material helped him "round down" his age estimate. Nonetheless, I feel happy, healthy, and surprisingly optimistic. 31 will be a good year.