I am happy for my friends when they get married… But why does it have to cost me so much time, money and effort for one day? And why, as a 30-something singleton, do I end up losing out on friendship while at the same time being made to feel by society that I am not getting with the programme in finding myself a mate with whom to wear white dress and sprog?
I am glad that my friends are pairing up one by one, even though this means losing my social circle like sandcastles into the sea. My heart sinks a little more each year as the next slew of wedding invites arrives in the post because as soon as girls get married, they don’t want to socialise anymore. And they get duller. In our twenties, my girly chums and I used to go out to drink and dance; our nights out were a unique way for us to bond, let go of the world outside and be ourselves in care-free abandon. I now look upon those days with nostalgia and sadness, not just because my married friends now no longer want to go out, but because I also realise that some of my friends were just using our outings as opportunities to find a man.
Now successful in their husband hunting, they have no need for me anymore. In many cases, they stopped calling me overnight. So, it seems, my purpose has been served. As my friends disappear into their bubble of love with Paul/Chris/Simon, I discover, usually via Facebook, that they are getting engaged (cue photo of sparkly rock on finger and a million likes from other attached peers who thoroughly approve; someone else is joining their ranks.) The wedding is taking place in the middle of nowhere; I will have to pay half a mortgage in transport and spend a whole day getting there. Getting home will be impossible but ah! What luck; there is a hotel nearby at a cost of £100 a night. And here is the wedding list; “everything we want” (it says) “comes from Harrods…”
The mathematics behind being the last to marry make for disheartening reading and it looks increasingly likely that I will be that person. My list of outgoings reads like this: I have to pay to go to someone’s wedding; admittedly, the happy couple must also pay for me to attend, but the two of them are meeting the burden, usually with help from family. If I am the last to marry, not only must I pay for my friends to show up at my nuptials, I must also pay for their Other Halves and the two of them need only buy me one present, which is half the cost I bore on their Big Day.
There is also a price to be paid in the indirect pressure one feels, partly caused by the inane comments people make, especially at weddings. I hear statements like, “You’re better looking than your sister; I thought you'd get married first” and the accusatory “Why are you single?" This is a constant barrage against me, a woman in her 30s trying to get on with establishing her career, live life and generally keep her head down. The problem is that the constant remarks can get to you and end up making you believe that there is something in all this. Why can’t I get a boyfriend? The crazy logic ensues thus: what do my settled friends have that I do not? Looks? Personality? I note that they have all wanted to settle down since we were teenagers and planned out details of their wedding in their heads years before they met their respective partners. I would like to think I have other things going on in my life that were more interesting than waiting for a prince to whisk me away… I’ve always been more of a dragon-fighting ninja than a sighing maiden waiting for Mr Right.
So for all you women about to get engaged, congratulations! And please remember to think about your single friends before reaching for the Fortnum and Mason gift gift catalogue. Remember to stay in contact after you get married; your friends don’t represent a past life you can get rid of now that the ring is on your finger; you never know if you’re going to need them one day. Maybe you could even go out and socialise with them occasionally without the fella; you are not joined at the hip.
Finally, and apart from anything else, remember this: single female friends are the best when it comes to organising divorce parties.
Tanya Phillips
