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Marriage Mulled

A few days ago I posted on Facebook the following status: “Tonight a gentleman asked me why a girl like me is single. It took a lot out of me not to crumble on the floor and just weep. A lot. But hey… I’m still standing.” This incident and another conversation I had had with my mom a few weeks ago led me to write the reason why I’m annoyed by this question but also why I am unable to worship the institution of marriage. Hang tight this is going to be a very raw blog on why I hate the institution called marriage but I am still pro-marriage and the partnership dependant on how each couple would design it for themselves. 

The man I mentioned above saw me at my daytime job and the manner in which he asked me carried pity and also a sense that something was wrong with me; that I couldn’t secure a ring. My response was so composed as I was at my job. But I explained to him that men and women think of marriage differently. For all my existence I’ve watched women aspire to the wedding day without considering what it takes to be stuck with an evolving man. Some of them marry for the status and not for the idea of this becoming a partnership, so once I was aware of this I have been very sure I won’t be that woman.

I’ve nearly had someone pop the question at least twice in my young life. In the one very serious instance I noticed there were concerns not only for me considering how young I was but also the concerns of accommodating all my “married woman requirements”. If you know me very well you will know that I battle to pretend so as much as I can respect my elders and everyone around me I just can’t be a doormat. It was then that I realised that I would have to partner with a person who got this and had it fixed in their head that I’m not your ordinary Zulu woman.

However my biggest reason the institution of marriage doesn’t resonate with me is because my mom got married when I was about turn 11. When I turned 12 my sister came along and I got to see what really goes into a marriage. From the beginning to the end of my mother’s marriage I had front row seats and watched all she did, good and bad, and I will give it to her she really worked at her marriage. For four years out of the seven years I was my mom’s friend, sister and shrink through the highs and lows (I don’t want to go into the details of how hard a marriage can be, but when a woman comes into a marriage with another man’s child the hard work gets amplified and no one is there for her or her child. She has to figure it out on her own).

Having this understanding that I now have I realised that mom did the best she could with a very hard and sticky situation. But she stood strong, I don’t take her efforts lightly, even though societal expectations required her not to speak up.

I realised that people evolve and when you have said your vows, you must therefore be extra sure that should this person gain weight or go off on a different life mission you are willing to say yes to that marriage? Since I know myself, I know how much I can bottle resentment in and wait for something small to send me off the rails. I’d rather remain in my space until I find someone I can be honest with through my high and lows. I can honestly admit I have so much that I still need to work on, but who doesn’t?

The pity-shame-poor- her squad need to sit down. There’s nothing as calming and validating as when you’re closing the door in the morning knowing that if plans change you don’t need to consult with anyone. Also people who are married don’t always share the greatest of stories, so we can’t always trust the Instagram feeds. I really want to be left alone. Sometimes I feel like asking a person; ‘do you think I don’t want a partner?’ But they will never see it that way because my duty is to be a black woman and have everything together. Well I don’t. I have no control over that and I have no way of telling when the right person will come along. I wish people would stop burdening single people with this question and just allow us to be. Life is meant to be enjoyed and not forced.
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