“I was 22 when we met,” Lisa said of her future husband. “We broke up a few times, but I stuck with it. I gave him ultimatums!”
That's a train wreck.
It took the man, 13 years Lisa’s senior, six
years to put a ring on it.
The fool.
“You can’t control
who you fall in love with and who falls in love with you,” I added, in
my defense.
Chemistry matters.
“Love shmove!” Lisa said with a look of disbelief in her eyes as if someone had pulled the wool over mine.
Lisa's poor husband.
Was it better to have never truly loved and gotten married than to have loved and lost it all?
Best to stay free.
What I’d said was true: I had been in love and had my heart broken. A few times. And as the years passed, each disappointment grew as my hope for children dwindled.
This wasn’t my plan. I was ready to get
married at age 21, two years after my mother’s early death at age 52. I
yearned to recreate her maternal love with my own children.
Yikes.
While I had grown up in a traditional Jewish home, after she died, I became more observant, believing on some level that religious young men were more likely ready to create a family that would gather around the warm glow of the Shabbat table on Friday nights. (Later, I’d learn at least my instincts were right.)
At age 24, I packed up my life in Montreal, Canada, and moved to New York City to find that great Jewish man, the future father of my children. It was surely the best possible plan.
This month marks 30 years in Manhattan, still single and no chance of becoming a mother. As the old Jewish adage goes: We plan; God laughs.
Now why is that? Not enough Jewish men in the right age range? Did she not put herself in the right places? Did she not give off the right signals?
My second book, a memoir called Otherhood: Modern Women Finding a New Kind of Happiness was published in 2014. Along
with my own story, I share the experiences of Generation X and older
millennial women who expected the love, marriage, and children our
mothers had, along with greater access to higher education and the
careers they didn’t have. It wasn’t that most of my generation chose the
latter over the former. We simply expected that we would date and pay
the rent simultaneously, just like the men we were dating did.
Maybe men and women are different?
I first chose a low-paying non-profit career
with greater flexibility to take care of my future children. I invested
time and money in online dating sites in my twenties, matchmaking
services in my thirties, and singles events (or big ticket charity
events where there would be plenty of singles), into my forties.
We don't know how she behaved during her activities, though.
Now, age 54, I am among the 25% percent of Americans who by age 40 have never married. And I have surpassed the 46.7% of never-married women ages 40-50 who are childless.
Keep up the good work, guys!
It’s not that we did not want to marry. We
did.
Wanting to marry isn't the same thing as wanting to be a wife, though.
The breadth of women who
did everything they were supposed to do to prepare themselves for the
life they imagined now stretches to the younger cohort who land on the
college campus of their choice only to have few men to choose from. Or,
they’ve graduated and moved to the big city, only to find it just as
hard to meet someone. Childless women in their twenties out-earn their male peers in 20 metropolitan areas. For these women, meeting a man who is also ready to meet their match is more challenging than ever.
Why does it matter if she earns more, hmm?
Nonetheless, this narrative assumes women
don’t plan well, make poor choices, put our careers first, are too
picky, or believe love is a fairytale. And for those of us who didn’t
find love in time for the children we yearn(ed) for and who grieve our
loss, it’s often assumed we were too naive to understand our fertility
would end. We waited too long, they say. Left it too late, they
admonish. As if we didn’t have painful monthly reminders. For most of
us, it wasn’t our choice.
I can believe that there are women who did "everything" right and still never married even though they wanted to marry. Better they not have married than to have had a bad marriage, though.
While more young women today say they are
remaining single and childless by choice, I have my doubts that it’s
what most of them truly want.
Believe women.
Perhaps she would have been more likely to marry if family law and courts weren't so terrible? Something to think about. Because we can change laws and courts.