Why are you still single?
Well, gee - if I knew?
I've always hated that question. Um, pretty obviously, I was born that way. Perhaps less obvious, because I'm not married. Haven't met the right guy. The right guy didn't ask?
I'm not pretty enough? My boobs are too small? I'm too Catholic?
You know what? Why don't you go ask the men over there why THEY think I'm single. Maybe then we can get somewhere!
But you know something, bloggy friends?
The only thing worse than constantly being asked why you're still single....
is when they stop asking.
Suddenly, I have to wonder if it's quite obvious to everyone but me why I'm still single. Did everyone figure out that maybe I'm a shrew? Or worse, now that I'm over 40, do they all think the race is over? (I think they do! And that makes me sad.)
Of all the times I've heard, responded to, or ignored that question... there have been a handful that actually flattered me.
My favorite was about a year ago. My friend was newly married, pregnant and had invited me over for dinner. At her house, I love to work in the kitchen and I was merrily chopping away at some vegetables - sort of doing my version of the chef from The Little Mermaid... telling the vegetables what I was a going to do them... employing my range of silly voices, "Ah, I chop you up, and now you're going to fry!"
My friend's new husband overheard my goofiness, smiled broadly and said, "How are you single?"
My heart melted. I thanked him and gave him a hug. It meant so much to have a really good man say such a thing.
That's what I prefer to hear. An acknowledgment that I'm fun, and appealing and that someone IS missing out by not asking me to share his life.