Please don't take pity
on us singletons

September 9, 2005

by Marta Hummell
 News-Record
 
I'm 32. I'm not married. Never have been.

This poses problems for many people in Greensboro.

"She is a singleton, just like you, you should meet her," said one well-meaning 50-something woman.

She was trying to be helpful. But I had to suppress a giggle.

Her words implied a couple of things. First, word choice. Using "singleton" broadcasts that she was searching for a word other than spinster.

Spinster would be cruel, seeing as it means permanently alone -- and lonely. Cats and muumuus come to mind.

Using single would not be quite right, though. That's for people younger than 30.

Singleton says you're over 30; with prayer and divine intervention, maybe you'll meet someone.

Then there's "you should meet her." So because I'm over 30 and not married I need moral support.

Isn't that what friends are for?

I thanked her for thinking of me. But I didn't ask her for the other woman's number.

But it's not just women of a certain age who worry for me.

I joined a volunteer group of mainly younger married women last year when I moved to Greensboro. The first mixer should have forewarned me. I felt like I was at a bar, given the number of times someone glanced at my empty left ring finger before saying hello.

They would still ask me if I was married. My "no" was often followed by the joint arm squeeze and, "Oh, don't worry, you'll meet someone" combo -- or silence.

I was pitied. I dropped out this spring for various reasons, including the above.

It is as if being single to many women here means you must be unhappy.

And for some, that is the case. One friend from Charlotte sent me "Table for One: The Savvy Girl's Guide to Singleness." The book rests on the premise that you are still OK if you are single, and here is a list of things to do to distract yourself permanently or until you get married (if you are lucky.)

It made me laugh. She is a successful consultant. She has traveled all over the world. But for her, marriage is the missing link.

Men have told me the same thing.

Someone I dated here told me breaking up with him is fine, but that my next boyfriend should be "serious."

"I mean, you aren't getting any younger."

Twist that knife.

For married men, especially the over-50 crowd, my single status is a bit discomfiting.

My job requires that I take people out to lunch. Journalistic ethics requires that I pay or at least split the bill.

Some men have flat out refused, quite earnestly, the first couple of times.

But I can't budge.

They turn red. They say they will have nothing of it. It would be like their daughter taking them out. Something is just wrong about it.

Maybe they are just uncomfortable being seen with an unmarried woman.

Regardless, I take it as a compliment, a tribute to their good manners, but wonder if it keeps them from taking me seriously.

But I don't wish for marriage for marriage's sake.

A few years ago that was not the case.

Ironically, I was living in New York City, the land of the permanent single crowd.

As a child, I had always imagined that I would marry at 28 and have children by 30. That would have given me time to go to college and graduate school and build a successful career, or so I thought.

I spent a few years leading up to 28 expecting that fatalistic vision to come true. When it didn't, I waited for a sign from God directing me to his real plan.

I never got one.

Since then I have earned a master's degree, started a new career and moved to a state that I swore I would never return to after a horrible stint in Charlotte.

It's been lonely sometimes.

But I've stopped waiting for my life to happen. For now, that is enough.