It is a truth universally acknowledged by a single woman after a certain age that she has squandered her chance at love and must now buy copious amounts of cats. However, little regard is given to the woman’s own desires, wishes, and circumstances.
I love Jane Austen as much as the next girl. I dream for my own Mr. Darcy, because he’s a hunk of a man. Handsome. Quiet. Stoic. Intelligent. And filthy rich. But life isn’t all about marriage.
Marriage – especially, advantageous marriage – is the ultimate goal of woman, according to society.
Worse yet, society has taught us that our value as a woman is determined upon not only the man (or men if you’re super valuable) who seeks us but how soon he finds us and how soon we get hitched. (Not to mention the costs of the wedding that get factored in – but that’s a blog post for later).
Why is this okay? Is marriage all that matters for women?
Why is it that I’m in fear – at the mere age of 23 – that I’m going to be the crazy cat lady? (Actually, I’d much rather be the crazy fox lady or some other cool animal like that. But that begs the point.) If statistics are true, and I get to live to be roughly 80 years old, I still have over 70% of my life to find the one for me and yet I’m already in fear that it’s gone and I’m on my own. Destined to forever be the crazy cat (FOX!) lady.
Is that a bad thing?
Surely cats (FOXES) are much better to get along with then another human being who can actually vocalize their own wants and needs.
Even if a single woman doesn’t purchase cats (or foxes), she’s still looked down upon by others and talked about in hushed whispers. “She should have married that John guy when she had the chance.” “If she’d just do her hair and makeup…” “She’s too independent. That intimidates men.” “She talks too much.” “Nobody’s gonna buy the ice cream truck when you’re givin’ out the popsicles for free”
(If you don’t see a problem with the above statements, then…we need to talk.)
Marriage is great. I want to get married. Have 2.5 kids. The white picket fence. Dinner on the table by 6. It’s something I dreamed about before that shitty day a few weeks ago. And I still hope to have at one point in the future. (Albeit, with a different better man)
But, at the same time, if I don’t get any of that – why is that society’s business?
Why does that make me less valuable than someone stuck in an unhappy 
marriage? Why does my worth rest on the type of man I end up marrying? Did I snag a good one? Could I have done better? Could I have done worse? Why is marriage society’s currency for personal worth?
What about the women who are perfectly content in being alone? Extremely successful women who are in charge of their own lives and dreams. The “Career Women” as deemed by the business world. Are they worth less than Susie Homemaker just because they don’t have a man? And if she doesn’t want children, heaven forbid! Doesn’t every woman want to be blessed with bumpkins running around?
I do. But I’m not every woman. We are all different. Some of want twenty kids and others only want one. And I have met several women (and men – lest they feel left out) who do not want to have kids for a myriad reasons. Society says women must have babies and they must want those babies or they are less of a woman. And you better have at least one boy – gotta carry on that family name.
Then, what about people who physically can not have kids of their own? How horrible they must feel when society places value on something they have no control over! Does society even care about them and their feelings?
Nope. Hate to break it to you, but society doesn’t give a damn about the individual or its feelings. Afraid of change and differences, it plows on through stuck in its ways with its nose held high in the air.
And the scary thing is…
We are Society.
You. Me. That strange guy sitting next to you picking his nose.
Our actions, inactions, inter- and intra-actions set the standards by which society works.
And we love it. We eagerly read gossip columns and societal papers. Some of us even dream of one day seeing our own name and picture on that hallowed fame of ink. We want to bask in the glow that society decides we’re worth. It’s all fun and games until society devalues you. It’s a fickle love game.
The problem is not standing up to society’s judgments. We allow them to play in our lives and self-esteem. We allow others to tell us what we’re worth. Instead, we should decide what we’re worth.
Go after that career.
Go after the Susie Homemaker Life.
Be the crazy cat (FOXES! Dammit!) lady
Who cares if you get married at 16 or 40? Or better yet, two days before your 80th birthday! If you even get married at all.
Have no kids or have a football (quidditch :)) team
Be whoever makes you happy.
We create our own value. We decide what we’re worth.
And we’re damn near priceless
~Sarah
The Rambles of Life 