You know which one. The one that gives you the instructions for life.
Like that maybe not all relationships that start in college are just college relationships – some last for ever.
The one that says you should really do your best to find a partner by the time you hit 30, because it gets MUCH harder to do so after then.
The note that tells you that time really does go by quickly and you need to DO things, otherwise you’ll end up wondering how you spent all those years.
That one day when you’re in your mid thirties, you’ll go to a lunch at a friend’s beautiful home, and be the only single person there – the only one without a family. When people look at you, you can see they’re trying to work out what’s wrong with you. Suddenly you wonder if you’re missing out. And what IS wrong with you.
That for all your independence, travel, career and trail-blazing, you’ll become an outsider if you don’t have the spouse and 2.4 kids by the time you’re 35. And that the pool of ‘people like you’ – and your social circle – is fast diminishing.
For the first time, I’m wondering if I’m missing out by being single and independent. Don’t get me wrong – my biological clock is still definitely on ‘snooze’. But I’m tired of flying solo, of feeling left out, of not having someone to share life with. Of having women sidle closer to their husbands when I’m around (and I am so totally NOT a femme fatale, by any means). Of having my Facebook news page filled with photos from friends’ childrens’ birthday parties (not that I mind not being invited – rather, that I’m left out of their social circle).
The problem is that if I do realise I’m over the single life, it’s up to fate as to whether I meet my soulmate. Sure, I can put myself out there, but ultimately, it’s not up to me. And for a control freak like me, that’s terrifying.