I've watched women around me get pressured into loveless, abusive, pretentious relationships and unions because society dictated to the hearing of their anxious pens that their flowers were wilting... and some were not even 35! Panicky 27-year-olds restlessly fashioning bait after bait to hook a fish or just saying "I just want to have a kid since the husband is not forthcoming".
Heard mothers laying it on thick with the incessant 'I want grandchildren' chant and men settling for a lady who can "burn" because to them a wife is merely a cook - with benefits. Or hitching up with a bimbo because she's eye candy and not factoring in that marriage is not what we see on Facebook and IG. Absolutely no thought given to how two people coming together should factor in being a union of purpose and not just the "basic" things we make it out to be.
When it comes down to it, I believe the question that we answer by our choice of whether to get hitched or not and if we do - the type of person we get hitched to; is this: What is the pivot of my existence?
Is it being celebrated or being impactful? Is it having "mini mes" or being a Mrs? Is it bearing children from the womb of your mind and the way you think, aka disciples? Being a Moses to my people? Is it being a voice of truth regardless of the cost and can I pay the price of all other things to get what I must? What does my spirit tell me is a must, which the pressures of external expectation can never combust? Is it most important for me to settle or "settle down"? Or both?
I had my first boyfriend at the age of 21. I know considering today's reality, that's sorta kinda late. But we were both young and I was mostly stupid. Don't tell him I said that! Lol. Well, not stupid-stupid because I have always been really book smart and responsible. I had my relationship theory on lock but foolishly never understood how very different practice often was, from theory.
I had just had my Bachelor's degree - he too and we bonded over M.I and the color purple. It felt like a match made in heaven. He seemed to be the male version of me and me, the female him.
Complementary passions and interests, both star-struck by each other's skill and dedication in the pursuit of said passions, ambitious and very "UnCameroonian" in our thinking. I often thought how wonderful it was that my first go at love, meshed me with such a treasure trove.
Behold the Dreamer!
The other shoe dropped when we talked about the 'when' of marriage. I was pretty sure I'd be married by the standard age of 25 (ask society, romance novels and a typical African mentality!) at the very latest. So 3-4 years felt absolutely doable. But he unflinchingly told me he had AT LEAST 10 more years before he tied any knot whatsoever. I was shook! You need to understand that I grew up with this dual cornerstone foundation on relationships: - Dating was a journey you only embarked on, in view of marriage And - Sex was dessert, marriage was the entree. And you could never have breakfast for dinner.
This, in essence, meant we'd have to stay together - and chaste for 10 years at least?!!! Like Sister Mary Patrick in Sister Act said, I didn't need to bite the cookie to know it was gon be hella sweet! So, I wore my "smart" hat and took it to mean we weren't meant to be. I nicely suggested we ended it and stayed friends instead of sailing off into the harsh noonday sun. And so we called it off.
Flashforward 10 years later, we are both still unmarried and I'm mostly single. Lol. Not for a shortage in advances but because of the pieces of "growing up" I've racked up on this journey of becoming.
So why am I pulling out this story today?
I think I am beginning to understand, the distress of being a square peg brutally jammed into a triangular hole. Or being like water - able to fill any container and space yet compelled into one state so as not to ruffle the feathers of society's definitions, traditional restrictions, patriarchy's expectations and standards which quite frankly do not take into consideration the truth that we are all so... different... unique.
A frying spoon, a soup spoon, and an icecream spoon all have the spoon thing going for them but have quite different designs and uses. And in my perspective, it's not so much the "spoon -ess" that gives clarity as to its usage but the kind of "spooning" it was intended for ( making absolute use of my poetic license here).
In that sense, we are all spoons yet all so very different. And one of the most intrinsic differences is what I choose to call Purpose. The question of our why. The what that gives relevance to our unique existence upon the earth and as a part of the societies and communities we are born into and get to be a part of. A person's purpose is what should define the trajectory of their lives. The courses they should study, their annual income, at what age they "should" marry, how many kids they "should" have, the tribe they become a part of and even right down to the rules that be; which they decide to cast off.
So, in some ways, I feel like I'm 30 going on 20. Intrinsicly young in the light of this perspective. I am going to get married. But apart from the need to scratch "the itch" I'm content to be hitched to a sense of purpose until I find a man to walk the whole 9 yards and not just down the aisle, with. The goal isn't becoming just a power couple. More like an impactful couple. It is being in a union which is not just about cute babies, sating cravings, carving chunky juicy slices of life's pie and chomping it down on comfy couches with a hunky hubby. I want it to be a union like it was intended to be - Souls, Spirits, and Bodies. The kind that makes it possible for 2 to slay 10.000, where 1 slays 1000.
And in some ways, it appears like I'm 30 going on 85 when people around me worry that at 30 I'm not so worried; and if they should hold vigils for the missing sigil on the fourth finger of my left hand (Chuckle). Please hold the vigils. A person can never have too many prayers said for them. But I'm confident that bigger than than the rules of timelines and time is the God that purposed them and put purpose in the hearts of men.
And another thing I hope I can gladly say is, that the story of my life was signed by my own fingerprint. Because born free, who will free us to be us, but ourselves?
This piece may not provide answers. But I hope I help us ask the right questions. And give the right darns. Because trust me this life, is NOT "one size fits all".
Ask God.
Author: The Girl Who Could Fly