Third Decade Love Slave

Third Decade Love Slave

I recently caught an episode of every guy’s favourite show Sex in the City focusing on the way single people are treated by their couple-fied friends. A particular comment by Miranda Hobbs – the red haired intellectual ‘lawyer type’ – grabbed my attention: ‘they’re (couples) scared of us… We make them feel uncomfortable…’ They then went on to debate whether it’s the couples envy of the single persons life that makes them feel that way, blah blah blah, I lost interest after that.

Miranda’s comment did strike a chord with me somewhat, not because my couple friends feel uneasy around me but due to the strange occurrences I’ve been experiencing since turning 30 not four months ago. I am 30, I am single, and I’ve been travelling on and off since I was 23. Though I’ve had various relationships long and short, being in a constant state of wandering makes it hard to sustain a full time relationship. Not to mention the new relationship horizons that open up once one is in another country, city, postcode…

Hence I’ve always been capable of initiating interaction with the opposite sex but have never committed in the traditional sense. This doesn’t bother me as I don’t want to have kids and believe in fate, love and all that mushy stuff and know that when the time is right and I am settled within myself the right and true person will come along. Apparently some of my surrounding friends and family do not share my romantic optimism.

Not long after my birthday – no more than week I think – two people at my work had found prospective suitors for me, one of which was ‘bald and not great looking but has a really great heart’, and the other a huge, muscly, gym junky type, also with no hair. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their efforts but those who are supposed to know me should know I’m more of a blue-eyed, tall dark and handsome, full head o’ hair kind of girl. These instances paled in comparison however to the reception I received upon returning to Australia from London. Nearly every persons second question upon seeing me was ‘There’s no English boy in tow with you is there?’ and once reassured that there wasn’t proceeded to ask me why, what I did to them, what’s wrong, etc.

My Grandmother died the day after I returned and upon meeting all the distant relatives and friends of the family – the majority of whom I didn’t know or remember – I found they were also highly concerned with my marital status. ‘Do you have a boyfriend/are you married dear?’ my answer of no being received with a less than enthusiastic, always judgmental ‘Oh…’ And of course that’s just what I was secretly dwelling upon and internally wrestling with whilst at my Grandmothers funeral.

As I mentioned before I do appreciate their concern and am impartial to their fix-up’s. Sometimes the best candidates for a significant other are friends of friends. I am choosing to believe their keen interest is due to the fact they think I’m an unbelievably gorgeous, intelligent and hilarious rare gem of a woman, and not a 30 year old single childless leper due to spend eternity alone.