Ever since I was a little kid I wanted to be like my Aunt V.
She was never married and has a fulfilling job in education. She can come and go when she pleases. She can spend what she wants, which includes sending her nieces and nephews Christmas checks. In her 50s, Aunt V is definitely Ne-Yo's independent woman. Somehow, the strict cookie cutter mold of what a woman should be from her generation, a housewife or a secretary until she married, gave my Aunt V room to be what she wanted. I wonder if she has noticed how society has gone back in time.
My last beauless friend Bells now has a boyfriend. Every other woman I know might as well be engaged. This would not scare me if I wasn't only 24 years-old! It's like my generation is playing this game of checkers, and I'm the only little round, black piece that has not been kinged. All I can see is all the other paired up pieces laughing at me from either side of the board.
I even have friends who are dating guys who are losers or who have girlfriends that are only messing around with them because they can. Beautiful, strong girls who dream of being doctors and lawyers, but wouldn't dream of being alone.
My good friend Haynes has even gone out of her way to try to set me up with some guy that she found someplace. Who knows. Does it even matter anymore? People these days find "love" on Craigslist.
This is sad to me, but you have to remember who I am. I played with Barbies minus a Ken. It was Barbie, Skipper, my Cabbage Patch and Glow Worm, having Sex and the City-esque lunches where they discussed their individual divorce settlements on our old living room coffee table.
Another thing that saddens me is that the world has made a scary decision for its occupants with vaginas: you are either an Aunt V. or the 40-year-old woman at the teeny bopper club with the hair weave down to her ankles who thinks she looks good for her age.
I think I will stay on the Aunt V. side.
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