
Tony Natif
I consider myself rather progressive and so I will naturally gravitate to friend circles that do not think smartness should be measured by how many inches below the knee one’s skirt is or good behaviour by the number of Hail Marys one recites in a day.
Sexuality is not something we beat people up with; it is something we celebrate. For a lot of my female friends, individual freedom trumps traditional notions of womanhood deeply engrained in the psyche of your average millennial. It, therefore, surprises no one that many of my friends have defied social pressures to “get a man and produce” in preference for personal development, career, travel and the eclectic experiences that come with it.
Some have got a child or two along the way but very few look at finding Prince Charming, falling wildly in love with them and marrying them as the crowning jewel of their human existence. I say good on them! The other day, I read a piece in the Wall Street Journal titled: “Dating is the only thing you can put 10,000 hours into and end up right where you started”.
One of the subjects of the piece was a successful 30-year-old lady who had had to “rump down her search for a husband after many of the men she dated were either turned off by her ambition or were not career-oriented enough for her”. Fairly common here as well. A female reader in her 30s volunteered a reason: “my friends are still single in their 30s because they are hunting unicorns.
Somewhere along the way, a man stopped being just a man. Now he is supposed to be your therapist, best friend, passionate lover, future father of the year, financial provider and probably a mind reader too. All wrapped up in one devastatingly handsome package.”
My friends might struggle to understand this sentiment. In a love marketplace which works faster and more conveniently for flings than it does for longterm commitment seekers, perhaps we might want to start asking ourselves whether the family picture our parents aspired to is truly achievable in this day and age. Has the pool of viable longterm partners shrunk too much or has the game been totally redefined?
If it is the latter, must we really continue judging the successful, late 30s/40s singles as some sort of pariahs? Are they not the majority now? If one’s need for companionship can be filled with friends and other experiences, must we judge them for jumping on dating apps and having a couple of similarly minded humans on rotation?
In a world where technology has significantly reduced the pain of courtship, expanded the available pool and increased choice, is it realistic to continue judging people by their ability to partake of the traditional marriage institution fraught with occasionally unrequited sacrifice and unpredictability? What happened to freedom?
Note: I am hoping my dear friend “Ssemaka” does not see this piece!