I am a female who belongs to a church where women are expected to be able to do ALL things. And I mean all things. I'm sure most of this pressure is self-imposed or culturally imposed. I cannot believe that God would really want us to be as miserable as we make ourselves, falling short of our absurd expectations. Tripping over our own feet as we run.In addition, all women in my religion are expected to get married and have families well before my age. I'm single. Still. A blight. A plague.
My religious leaders preach that as long as we live faithfully no blessing will be withheld from the righteous. But what if I'm not righteous--or more importantly, what if I am not righteous ENOUGH? What if I reach the judgement bar only to find out that I was one smile short of salvation? --Sorry. Wish there were a next time. Please enjoy your eternal damnation. Followed by a dismissive, Next!
The pathetic thing is that I grew up only wanting to be a wife and a mother. I had no career ambition. I remember in second grade when everyone was drawing what they wanted to be when they grew up, drawing a mother. When the teacher came around, she asked what I had drawn. When I told her it was a mother, she suggested that I make the picture into a nurse, because they are mothering. I have had no worldly desires. Wifehood. Motherhood. They were my ideals. That was my dream. I don't want a bigger house or a top of the line car. I'm not the kind of person who has expensive tastes. But, I can't make someone love me --or marry me. That is something he has to choose. Right now I can't even find a date!
I know I have faults and foibles. Am I that unlovable? Am I that difficult? I don't think I'm that picky. It is important that we share the same believe system or faith. I'd prefer he have a job, be straight, know how to work, not live at home with his parents (unless they are ill and he is helping to care for them), have at least as much education as I have, be attractive to me (AKA: a little chemistry would be nice), at least my height, like children, not be a deviant or criminal, not currently married, etc. Pretty normal list. Not too far reaching. Currently nearly impossible.
I never wanted to go to college or have a career. I wanted to raise children. I wanted to take care of a husband. I wanted love and a house with a white picket fence. What I got was college (for which I am ever grateful) and a career (which still feels unnatural and somewhat wrong). If I would have known my life was going to turn out this way, I hope I would have prepared differently. Changed my desires. Something. Maybe it is a trial simply because I want it so much. I wish I were more prepared for a life of single solitare. Or that I didn't care. My skills (that are atrophying from disuse) are all wrong for a career path.
Everyone says be patient. It will come. Sometimes meeting the right someone takes time. I know it could be worse. But I am LONELY. Now. EMPTY. Now. No matter what do to try to fill that ache within, vacant echos reverberate. My nieces and nephews cannot fill that void. My parents and siblings cannot. My friends cannot. I can serve in various positions and callings and faculties in church and work and community. I am merely covering up the hole of a bottomless pit. It caves in. Reappears. I don't think others know the depth of this pain. I hope. I would not want to burden them with this sorrow.
I stay busy. I chase hobbies. I plan adventures. I have fun. Several of my married friends envy my dating, my footloose and fancy life. They falsely believe that I have more fun, more money, more of everything. But I don't. And, the things I have pale in comparison to what I really and truely want. They are nothing but soap bubbles tossed on the wind before breaking. They do not last.
My quest is what to do in the meantime. Endure to the end. Who knew it could be so pointless and painful. How to I anxiously wait without anxiety eating me up? I feel like swiss cheese.
To make matters worse. My birthday is coming. Tick tock.
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