Get married, buy a house with a white picket fence, fill it with 2 children, and buy a minivan—this is the “American Dream” and the measuring stick by which we judge how successful of an adult a person is. I’m on the receiving end of this judgement all too often, now that I’m on the cusp of 30 but have yet to tick off a single box on the prescribed list of goals. Various people have warned me, time and again, that it would be sacrilegious to usher in my thirties without a husband or, at the very least, a house.
A recent conversation with an acquaintance of mine (let’s call her Julia) highlighted just how little people hesitate to express their opinions on my life choices when it comes to this matter. Our conversation started off as a rather general chat about the housing market but went south when Julia asked me a seemingly innocent question, “So, are you looking to buy a house anytime soon?”
“No. Not really,” I replied.
“Oh? Why not? I’m sure you could afford it.”
“Um, I just don’t see a need for it right now.”
Julia was now intently focused on me. I could sense that she wasn’t quite satisfied with my vague answer so I went on to say, “I’m single, I don’t have kids and I don’t plan on having kids in the near future, so I don’t see the need to purchase a house.”
Julia looked at me with wide eyes, as if I’d just told her that Men In Black was based on a true story and that I was actually an alien in a human skin suit. She eventually coughed up another question, “You don’t want kids?”...
Excerpt from post originally published on Madame Noire.