Internal pressure

A lovely non-mo recently asked me some questions related to the Mormon “pressure to get married.” It got me thinking.

I realized that for the past few years most of the pressure I've felt to get married has all come from within myself.

My mom used to pressure me a bit when I was a little younger. But ever since I had a good chat with her about it a few years ago, she's never brought it up again. Good mom, huh?

I used to feel a bit of pressure during my BYU days as well. But honestly, the pressure began fading away almost as soon as I moved out of the state.

I occasionally still do feel a bit of pressure when a good friend gets married. Or when I find out a friend is giving birth to yet another child.

But I kinda feel like I've gotten over a hump of sorts. The mo half of my friends are all pretty much in the same boat as me—single for the long haul and not obsessing about it. The non-mo half of my friends don't even give it a second thought.

Wait. Not obsessing? So WHYYY do I have a blog entirely devoted to singledom?

Because the truth is—I DO still feel pressure. But it's mostly from me. I am so scared to get married and I make myself feel guilty because of it.

There. I said it!

I have a coworker that is almost exactly the same age as me. He, however, has been married for several years and has 3 kids. We've become pretty good friends over the years and usually spend a few minutes everyday catching up on each other's lives.

We both sometimes express envy of the other's position in life. He sometimes envies my ability to stay out late with friends on the weekends and I sometimes envy his cute kid stories.

The other day he was telling me about how he'd like to take a trip somewhere, but can't exactly just hop on a plane to Hawaii with 4 other people, 3 of them being very small children.

That thought alone makes me feel like hyperventilating.

I'm usually jetting off to places (and often international locations) at least every other month, sometimes more. A lot of my trips are pretty spontaneous—I throw them together in a matter of days or weeks. It's my passion. It's my sanity. I can't imagine giving it up.

But here's the thing—it's a selfish life and I know it. I want something more. I want something even better. But the truth is, I'm so content that it's often hard to even imagine something better.

It's nice to imagine having someone else to live for.

It's nice to imagine having a built-in best friend.

It's nice to imagine being able to seriously think about having kids.

It's nice to imagine not having to date anymore.

But it's not so nice to imagine not being able to wander all over the world. It's not so nice to imagine not being able to spend my money on whatever I want. It's not so nice to imagine that I can't stay out late with friends on the weekends.

I know it's selfish. I know, deep down, that there's a better way to live. And THAT makes me feel pressure. Pressure to be better.