Thursday, September 24, 2009

Sorry to burst your bubble: it's National Singles Week

National Singles Week happens annually; this year, the dates to "celebrate" are September 20-26, 2009. A little background for you: NSW was started by the Buckeye Singles Council in Ohio in the 1980s. When that organization disbanded, a woman named Janet Jacobsen of Scottsdale, Arizona, who, at the time, was co-ordinator of the National Singles Press Association.

I'm not really sure how I feel about this "endorsement." Sometimes I think the more you call out a particular group of people that share a particular (sometimes perceived as "odd") trait, the more you end up differentiating them. And trust me, the jump from "different" to "not normal" isn't that long a leap.

Better that being single, at any age or life stage, is as normal and accepted as marriage - so much so that it doesn't need validation by having its own special holiday.
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Thirty and *gasp* single

It started about five years ago. Everyone – and we mean EVERYONE – got married. Being in a university sorority meant we knew a lot of women – some as close friends, some as acquaintances and some simply as recurring names in the endless stream of gossip that permeated our lives as part of the so-called “Greek system.” Back then we were like all the other girls – crushing, flirting, dating, crying, begging, breaking up, getting back together, falling in and out of love and, from time to time, daring to dream of our future weddings. What would the dress look like? How many bridesmaids would we have? And – most importantly – who would the groom be? We were all travelling the same path at that time; all puzzling over the complexities and emotions of “being in a relationship;” all wondering (and worrying) – when would that wonderful, white day, with its “I dos” and promises of everlasting love and happiness, come?

And then we came to that big, fat intersection. You know the one. You can either take a right, hit cruise-control and coast down scenic Wedding Way, where the sun shines and the birds sing and all the floral arrangements match the place settings or hang a left, shift into four-wheel drive and do your darndest to navigate Lonely Lane, a rocky, winding, unpredictable route fraught with potholes, landmines and seats at the singles’ table (it’s the one at the back of the room, in case you didn't know). Read more.