Diary Of A Twisted Mind

Ever since I was little I always said I never wanted to get married. Maybe it was all the sob movies I saw growing up, my parents marriage or the politics behind Princess Diana's wedding, all I know is I continually professed I was going to be a Nun.

Being a Nun in my eyes meant abstinence from all the worldly temptations of sex and being safe from the heartaches and drama associated with love and marriage.

I remember being beaten and slapped by my then single senior aunt and sometimes my mother every time they were within ear shot of my utterance. It was never a palatable experience. The slaps became harder as I grew up. I never understood the fuss anyway, it was my life and my decision to make whether I was cut out for marriage but apparently they thought otherwise. How could a young girl declare boldly, she wasn't going to be married? And she was going to become a Nun? It made my mother cry frequently. Marriage was and still is a thing of pride here in Nigeria. If you aren't married from a certain age, then something is 'wrong' with you.

As I grew up, I looked for a reason to change my mind about the entire concept of marriage because I saw it as a sham. An excuse for people to have sex legally and procreate - what's the fuss about that? People go their entire lives without it. And besides, I had older sisters and brothers, if grand children were the issue they had it covered. There were no good examples for me to see and want to aspire to. All the married couples I knew were miserable, particularly the women. The men were philandering husbands who did whatever they liked outside their matrimonial homes but came home and pretended like saints. Some wives knew and pretended not to know, while others embraced the adage of 'What's good for the goose is good for the gander' and carried out their own affairs.

Seriously! That's what they wanted me to become? An angry, discontent, troubled and depressed woman for the rest of my life? Just because my parents wanted to experience the joys of throwing a party so their friends could see that they too had a married child and the grandchildren would soon flow. Well they have another think coming.

Marriage is not for everyone. And I had established it within myself that it wasn't for me.

The Myth Of The Single Woman

I saw this writeup online and couldn't resist the urge to share. Enjoy



By Carolina Gonzalez,

As I walk into public spaces I can feel their cold penetrating stares. They pull their men closer and tighter as I walk by, uncomfortable by my mere presence. His girlfriend greets my unavailable female friend but does not acknowledge my presence.

A couple leaves my building as I enter. The woman’s husband is nice enough to hold the door open for me and for her. As I continue walking I overhear her scold him for having held the door open for me as if his act of kindness were anything more.

I have lost track of how many times I’ve noticed that my presence as a single woman changes not only the dynamics in a room but also the dynamics in once sound personal relationships. As I get older and remain single, these behaviors become more painfully obvious and increasingly uncomfortable.

So often in our culture single women are portrayed as weak, needy, and even crazed. Movies like He’s Just Not That Into You send implicit messages that single women must change in order to find love and happiness, acceptance.

There are at least two things wrong with these messages: happiness is not to be sought or attained through relationships and being a single woman does not mean that you are incomplete or lacking the attributes that pop culture tells us will magically make men fall head over heels.

Being single is not a contagious disease that requires curing and is not synonymous with being flawed or incapable of loving or being loved. I am not crazy, mentally unstable, cold-hearted, or a stage-five clinger.

Don’t read too much into my singleness. It does not define who I am or who I’m capable of being. And while I may occasionally succumb to moments of weakness (after all, what woman didn’t grow up bombarded with stories of prince charmings and happily ever afters), I do not spend my nights crying into tubs of Ben and Jerry’s, feeling sorry about my Facebook relationship status or lack thereof.

Please do not mistake being single with being desperate or broken. Often, as in the case of the most fiercely single women I know, it is a choice. I remain single, because I have yet to find the right guy. I am not a tortured soul with a heart in need of mending by someone else’s man or any man for that matter.

Please don’t try to set me up with your drug-dealing cousin Tito, your friend Mickey (you know, the ‘club promoter’ with corn rows), or the overly eager cashier at the carnicería. Just because you think anyone is better than no one, doesn’t mean I do. Instead, think of me as highly as you think of yourself. Be picky on my behalf.

Lastly, and most importantly, please do not equate my single status with having low moral standards. Simply because I am friends with your man or because he holds a door open for me does not mean I’m secretly in love with him, trying to steal him, or purposely out to get you. I’m single, but not conniving. I’m young, but too old to play games. And I certainly do not want, need, or deserve your ‘sloppy seconds’.