It's Complicated

Marriage is easy.

Okay, I'm really not that naive.  I know partnership between two people is always difficult.  Marital challenges include, but are not limited to, raising children, handling finances, sharing household chores, getting along with each other's families, determining if the toilet seat shall remain up or down (apparently a big deal in multi-gendered households).

But "married" is such an easy status to have.

Consider the standard government-issue questionnaire.  After asking for your name, birthdate, and Social Security Number, the form presents this question:

What is your current marital status? (Select one.)

Single

Married

Divorced

Separated

Widowed

Look at how many different ways there are to be "not married."

And while being married is a definitive state---you can't be "very married" or "mostly married"---being single is much more fluid.  You can be "mostly single," meaning dating people casually but not in a relationship.  And you can be "very single," which means not dating anyone seriously, not dating anyone period, not thinking about dating anyone, not even cognizant of someone in your world worth dating.

Facebook has expanded this common question, adding options such as "in a relationship," "in a domestic partnership," and "in an open relationship" (um...okay).  My favorite is the quintessential Facebook relationship status:  "It's complicated."

Even with only one set of emotions (and one preferred position of the toilet seat), inside the head and the heart of the single person, it's still complicated.

In my own head and heart, this complication most often arises when someone addresses the issue of my singlehood.

For example, at my younger brother's wedding---the occasion that officially dubbed me "the unmarried one" among my siblings---I was visiting with friends when one teased me, "How many times have you heard, 'You're next!'?"  I shot back, "That's one!" and the group laughed and the conversation moved on.

Inside, however, my reaction was a bit more complicated.

• Annoyed, at being teased.  In general, I hate being teased about anything.
• Embarrassed, that my love life (or lack thereof) was being discussed in public at all. 
• Disappointed, because I expected a bit more sensitivity from this friend, a fellow singleton. 
• And, secretly, a little bit pleased.     

That secret inward smile came from my realization that apparently people still thought it was okay to tease me about getting married.  That apparently people still thought there was hope!

Maybe my pleasant surprise at this discovery is easier to understand in contrast to a changing trend I'd noticed in the questions I get from my students.  Since I started teaching, I've always had students ask about my life, usually phrasing the question as "You're married, right?"  They are confident of a positive response and surprised when I answer simply, "Nope.  Not yet!"  But in my early 30s, I'd noticed a change in the kids' responses.  Instead of expressing simple surprise at my "not married" status, the questioner now often added an apology and chagrin.  "Oh!  Sorry!!" they'd say, as in "so sorry to have brought up such a painful subject!"   

With that recent trend, I found the realization that my friends and family still saw marriage in my future as a pleasant discovery.

Still, my reaction to my singleness becoming a topic of conversation remains complicated.  When friends try to set me up on blind dates, when family suggest I ask somebody out, when someone makes a reference to my future wedding, I experience a myriad of emotions.  By turns, I am . . .

. . . pleased to find that I'm still "in the running" in people's minds.

. . . relieved that it's okay to still hope and to be known to hope.

. . . apprehensive that someone will think it ridiculous that I still hope.

. . . unsure if it's still okay for me to think of myself as a future bride.

. . . afraid that someone will assume I'm desperate to get married because my friends or family often are.

. . . conflicted between admitting that I do long to find "the one" and get married, and the absolute necessity of embracing my life as it is now and living it to the fullest.


Most likely, my emotions will always be complicated, even once I can check that definitive "Married" bubble and have begun participating in the Great Toilet Seat Debate.  Even when I'm no longer single, I'll still be a woman.  Complicated emotions come with the territory.



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