Les Unringables

 This post will not take me any further from a perfect cliché.

Sunday afternoon I enjoyed the two hours of summer we get this year in Luxembourg, and took a little break from the never-ending to-dos, to lay on the terrace floor and do absolutely nothing instead. Relaxing obviously means that I was on my phone the whole time, so I decided to check in with an old friend that was taken away from me by our wonderful economy and now we live a thousand kilometers apart. She's one of those few friends that I've had for a long, long time, we go way back to elementary school. She's also one of those even fewer friends that you can literally tell anything and won't freak out. Our conversations usually go from baking to suicide, from health issues to gardening, to childhood traumas from sex. There is absolutely no shame or judgement, even for a moment, in any conversation we have. One of the OGs, one of those very few people that I never, under any circumstance, want to ever, no matter what, or who, or when, never, in any way (see what I'm doing here? - if not, watch the Office now and read me later) want to lose. Or see unhappy - which is the tougher cookie to break.

That's why it broke my tired heart when I saw her words, and that's why they still haunt me on Tuesday. How can she even for a moment think that of herself? How can anyone make her feel that way about herself? How dare they? The words still flash on the monitor of my brain in bright red

unmarriable

unloveable

I can't describe (still going to though) how much it hurts and pisses me off at the same time. It did hit too close to home, but this post isn't about me... yet. The kindest soul on this planet that I've ever encountered thinks she's not good enough for something that should not even require a discussion. Growing up, I never though this topic would be so damn hard to talk about. I thought, at a certain age, things just come to you in a natural way. Yet, this is the most unnatural, awkward and uncomfortable situation a woman can be in. Do nearing thirty-five, being with someone for four years, having a child with them really require begging for taking the next step? How do you even bring that shit up? "Hey, excuse me, lover, have you considered being my husband at some point in the near future or are you still looking?"

Some might say yes, you need to tell your partner that it's time to propose. I don't agree with that. If you've had that conversation once, preferably in the beginning of the relationship, where you shared your thoughts about getting married with each other, there should be no need to send out a notification that it's time. Asking for something is already a weak basis to build on. I've never enjoyed building houses of cards. I never got the point. You start off with something weak, and even if it manages to stand for a while somehow, all you do is stop breathing and put more weak things on top until it collapses. And without an exception it collapses. What's the point? My hands are shaky and I'm old, I ain't gon' build nothing by myself.

The conversation did not take a turn for the better further on. My friend is already the perfect housewife. She raises their child, takes care of the house, loves them eternally and as her own business; she bakes. They live in a small town, where she has a favorite grocery store to go to. In the middle of this whirlwind of questioning her own worthiness, she proceeded to pay for her weekly grocery run a couple of days ago. She proceeded towards a familiar face. At the cashier, there sits the beloved wife of her ex-boyfriend. The boyfriend she'd had for eight years. The boyfriend she left her home country with. The boyfriend that was unable to give her what should have been a no-brainer after eight years. There she sat, in their little town, in her neighborhood, in her favorite grocery store, all pregnant. The woman, that married her ex-boyfriend within a year after their breakup.
I'm not saying that those two are not meant to be. They can mean to be if they want to, I couldn't care less. However, if it wasn't my friend that was meant to be for him, how the hell did it take eight years for him to realize? Wasn't it clear after five? Or six? Why can't we respect each other's timelines, when we all know that women's time is very limited and we're doomed to perish?

Now, we could say that my friend is a horrible person and that's the reason why. Of course, we could lie. That's always the easier approach. We could try to make a list of what she's doing wrong. It would probably wreck our brains, but we could try. The truth is, there is absolutely nothing wrong with her. She puts a lot of effort into working on herself in many ways. I find it ridiculous that I start explaining how there's nothing wrong with her, while it's not her that we should be questioning in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I like the guy. He's a nice guy. I'm sure he will get there eventually. But I still don't understand why. Or more like why not. We, as women, have always dreamt of our wedding day, ever since we were little girls. (Please apply any gender here, or non-gender, or or. My brain is incapable to accommodate all that within this post, English is my second language. Thank you.) When we pictured ourselves wearing that white dress, we were our most beautiful version, the world was wowed, blue birds carried our veils, we were happy... and young. No woman ever has said "I want to look like a fifty year old wrinkly orange on my big day". Then we go and buy more time for ourselves with botox. The lengths we go just to keep looking young so that a poor soul somewhere starts to feel sorry for us and throws a ring in our face. We literally put poison in our bodies just to preserve the look for someone to take a glance at us at the end of that aisle and say "nice".

I'm not a fan of shotgun weddings. There's always something suspicious about a couple getting married within the first year - what's your first thought? ; is she pregnant? I think you have to get to know each other in order to make that decision for life. I think this has to be very well thought through. You have to be somewhat sure. But I can't wrap my head around the fact that when there's already a toddler in the picture, what's so scary about forever? Why does it have to come to the woman questioning herself about what she's really worth? Can you imagine the torture within her that makes her label herself as unmarriable and unloveable? And the best part is: she hides it so well, just to not upset her partner. Read that again. To not upset her partner. Go through hell, but make sure you bring back a souvenir.

There will be people arguing with this post, making a point of how papers don't matter and if you're in a good relationship that's all that matters. Yes. That's all that matters. If you've found the person you can picture your future with, you can be real partners with, that you adore and they love you back - what else do you need to fulfil her need for a wedding? Not even a wedding, at this age I'm sure most of us let go of the idea of a fairytale wedding already. We compromise on small townhall weddings, signing the papers faster than last night's quickie, anything to take the pressure off of the partner for going through with it. Why does suddenly a root canal treatment sound more tempting to them than to marry the love of their life? Why has the idea of marriage became the boogieman of the decade?

We keep saying we don't need it just to not scare our partners away. We keep quiet while it's screaming deep inside of us; why not me? We keep quiet towards them, while all our friends listen to these questions like a broken record. And the answer is: I don't know. I don't know why. I don't know why not. If I did, I wouldn't go through the exact same thing at the exact same time, at the exact same age.
And I don't even want to get married.

See you at the altar.
on someone else's wedding

V