After reading a post this week from one of my favorite bloggers, Lindsay (which, you should totally pop over to her blog and say hello), I started thinking about how silly people are.
I am 29 years old, unmarried, and childless for the time being. To many of the people I grew up with, relegated now to only “Facebook Friends,” my life is considered a tragedy. They seem un-phased by the fact that I have been in a committed relationship for over 4 years. See, to me, the fact that we own three houses (2 of which are investment properties, 1 we live in) together seems almost like more commitment than a ring on my finger. I repeat, to me. Yet, in this modern society we supposedly exist in, is it possible that my value as a human being still remains dependent on how many children I have brought into the world? Should my happiness be determined by how happy my marriage is? How many likes my engagement pictures get on Facebook? How many Pin-worthy touches my wedding will have?
I find that a little hard to believe. And yet, I am still haunted by a comment made to me over a month ago. Let me set up a short backstory: I’ve recently been taking advantage of many free Kindle books on food, gardening, and sustainability. Because, DUH. My Kindle library is currently flooded with juicy titles like Preserve & Pickle Recipes, A Quick Start Guide to Container Gardening, and The Herb Handboook. A peek at my Kindle bookshelf prompted a childhood friend to say, “Look at you being all domestic.”
Oh that’s right….I forgot. Since I have no children to speak of and still check “unmarried” on my tax returns, my life is just amusement to you Goddesses of Domesticity. How impressed you all must be that my non-maternal brain even thinks about gardening! Especially since gardening is something that married (i.e. domestic) people do. How cute of me to try my hand at playing house! Look at you for coming out of your box! I’m not sure exactly what was meant by that comment, since I’ve certainly been at this for over 4 years. But…since I am not yet married and without child, my life must be one blurry week or party after party after bar night after club. How awesome of me to try and fit domesticity into my hip, fabulous, social, unmarried life!
I could go on and on, but it gets to a point that if I think about it too much, then I can’t stop thinking about it. And then I would probably stab my eyes out with scissors.
I know what you’re thinking. That I am over-analyzing the situation. And you may be right. We live in a society where people speak before they think. If they even think at all about how the messages they sent may be received. My friend may not have mean to make a comment that potentially could have come across as passive-aggressive, or offensive, or oblivious, or rude. But guess what. I love my life. I love the fact that we buy fixer-uppers and rent them out, and whelp purebred dogs, and own our own successful business. I love the fact that I was able to drop everything and go back for my Master’s degree because why not! I can chose to get up early to go for a run or I can just go after dinner. It’s that casual because omgosh I don’t have to worry about anybody buy myself! I love the fact that I can travel and the hardest thing I have to think about is which kennel to board the dogs in and what to pack. I love the fact that I have all the time in the world to garden and cook and fix up my own home because – if you haven’t been paying attention at all for the last 3 years of me blogging – those are things I love to do.
So, yeah. Look at me being all domestic. Without having the learning curve of worrying about keeping children alive. It’s actually fun for me. It’s something that I enjoy doing and developing and sharing. And when I am ready to have kids, whenever that will be, I’m going to be great at it because I’ve all ready got this shit down.
And now look at me being seriously offended by your rudeness.
Blah. I don’t even know what the point of this post was, but I had to get it out of my head.