Unsexy

I’ve begun to think lately about how much we are in tune, so to speak, us American women, to the trends of our foremothers. 

For instance, 92 years ago our grandmothers (and great grandmothers) fought for the right to vote in their own country. If you’re a so-called “echo-boomer” like I am (I actually googled what generation I’m supposed to be) then your mother was part of the bra-burning, birth control sexual revolution whether she thought she was or not; and you’re maybe not even aware or caring a whole lot about any of these things. (Birth control? Isn’t it more like pregnancy control? The whole point is to avoid pregnancy before the birth, no? Perhaps birth control is a term better shifted to abortion. It sounds so more user friendly, and would confuse the incoming Republican onslaught, no?)

Still, historically, I sense a shift in the Force; one where women in total seem to be lost in the shuffle as we try on our new identities in a culture that resoundingly still stigmatizes women without husbands, women without husbands without children; and women without husbands but with partners they are not allowed, by law, to marry. But it’s not our fault, is it? Like most Americans, it’s easiest to shift the blame to others before we got here. 

Perhaps my mother’s generation of hippies and Row V. Wade. That’s who I usually pick. If it weren’t for Them, then I wouldn’t have to hear backhanded remarks from loved ones like, “Fae’s in a real, mature relationship.” Or, worse still, when I am not in a relationship, “You’ll find someone,” with that bile inducing smile that makes me want to punch the person speaking to me. Yes, ladies and gents, there is still a stigma, a big one, surrounding those of us who are free. I hate to be the one to tell you, but if you’ve made it to 30 unscathed by stretch marks, babies, and licenses and divorces, then you’re under attack in the most subtle of subtle ways.

Don’t believe me? Check out the looks you get when you are the only single woman at an all married gathering. Pay close attention to how the men look and speak to you, and then how the women do the same. Listen carefully to the supportive way your friends who are married comment on your life, no matter how successful you are. Let me know if I’m wrong, because I’d love to hear it. I would love to know that there are women out there, in America, who are not “venting” to their unmarried woman friends about their husbands, only to turn around and say, “well, no offense, but you’re not married, so…” as soon as you say anything other than, “uh huh.” 

If you are married and reading this, then I hope you are taking notes: perhaps you see a bit what it is I am talking about in yourself. Maybe not. 

I don’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just sayin’. It is in my experience that this is how our generation experiences the single woman. Probably just growing pains, the echoboom of the generation before us: or, as I like to tell my mother, it was the fault of the Love Generation that we borne Marilyn Manson, and his chant of, “we hate love, we love hate.”