Why aren’t you married?
I happened to overhear this question and conversation today between two people — I didn’t intend to eavesdrop. I was minding my business, working on something exciting a few feet away, when my ears picked up on this conversation.
“Why aren’t you married? Don’t you want to get married?” he asked her. He was married.
Honestly, the person wasn’t even talking to me — didn’t even know I was there, but it rubbed me the wrong way, subtly riled me up and set up a whole train of thought that mentally dug me into this abyss where I am in a long dialogue with myself about this subject. I realized that I was so affected by that question, because it is a question I have had to answer over and over again. And even when I didn’t answer it, I have had those well-meaning, nosy aunties “prophesy, a year by this time,” and I am tired.
I am also tired for anyone who is tired of this. And because I no longer intend to answer this question with the same energy, let me just dump my thoughts here and point anyone interested enough to read and understand why I am not married…
If only it were that simple, you know…
I’m 31. Turned 31 years this March, and honestly, I cannot complain. I love my life in many ways. Life’s good — not perfect — never perfect, but good. I’m truly a happy and blessed woman. I have learnt to count my blessings and to live in contentment. I have learnt to be grateful to God for the things I do have and try not to worry too much about the things I cannot control — like the reason why I’m not married yet… I have learnt to trust God to figure out and fix the pieces of my life, when they do not make sense to me myself…
The short answer to why I am not married is, genotype incompatibility has been a b**** to me! Pardon my French! I do not know how else to say it to convey the full potency of the punch, than to say the words...
It’s ruined every potentially good relationship that could possibly lead to marriage… There!!! I said it! Short and sweet answer…
But if you’re interested in the long answer, stay with me. I don’t know what’s worse; tell me what’s more tragic; to never find a good partner who loves and cares for you, or to find a good partner who deeply loves and cares for you and to have to walk away — not because they weren’t great — not because they didn’t want you, but simply because your genotypes were not compatible. I’m AS by the way — the only child of my parents who is AS. Both of my siblings are AA. Fortunately, although I only have the sickle cell trait, I do not have the sickle cell disease. Lucky me, right! Ugh! (If you do not know anything about genotype and genotype compatibility, now would be a perfect time to google about it).
So, I don’t know… I don’t know which other spectrums and shades of tragedy I have faced that you’d like to know about today, because I have a plethora…
Not once, not twice — to have to walk away from something mutually great — and other times, to decide to not want to try at all in the first place with someone, because I am weary to try with with them after finding out early enough that we are incompatible… I’m not about to flog a dead horse and invest my emotions into someone, knowing that it would certainly blow up in my face. Because it has, and I reckon that I’m better off without the implode.
I find love to be a very interesting phenomenon; my romantic experiences, which are largely good, have taught me something about love — but have also taught me something about commitment, especially in these parts of the world where social constructs and family influences, needle their way into how we live our lives. And I have come to a conclusion that I would never fight alone for love — I will not fight for someone who will not fight for me; with me. I will not lose myself in the pursuit of another, who will not reciprocate; I would guard my peace and my sanity.
Fighting through negative after-effects of genotype incompatibility has lifelong repercussions, and although I understand the magnitude of my inner strength, I choose not to go to war alone. I choose not, a companion whose weight of resolute commitment I cannot decipher or vouch for…
So for me, saying you love me is simply not enough; numerous men have thrown those words about, and to me they are as potent as a feather in a sword duel. It is worth absolutely nothing until proven; mere words spewed from incontinent lips, until I understand the full measure of their magnitude in the face of reality.
Maybe it does not help that I was never the kind of girl to have butterflies in her tummy simply because someone said they liked her, or was swooned by fancy words. Maybe it didn’t help that I was never the little girl who fantasized about getting married or had a vision of her entire wedding train. No, I was out there climbing and swinging from trees with the boys and all… Forgive me, if I am too entrenched, but this I know;
When your child is sick (with sickle cell disease), it will bring out the best and worst in you; when your finances are drained — when the home is strained, and desperation thickens palpably through every huff and puff of breathe, you may forget to maintain the same energy. When your loved one nears the jaws of death, again and again, and doctors recite damning conditions precipitated by the underlying sickening condition.
When you clutch your hyperventilating heart in your hands, every day — you may forget that you said you wanted this; that you wanted me; that you wanted us. You may forget that you said you love me. You may forget that you said “come hell or high water.” You may forget that you said “together forever.”
Forgive me then, if love alone does not do it for me. Forgive me then, if I cannot simply allow myself to fall in love without asking important questions like “what’s your genotype,” among other important questions. Forgive me then, if I am too rational and practical to vacillate without counting the costs. I wish it were that easy for me, but it apparently isn’t…
It was never my choice to have this gene; it is my burden — and I am simply trying to do my best with the lemons in my hands…
When I was much younger, I used to think that if you were a man and past 35 years or 40 or older and unmarried without REASONABLE EXPLANATION, then there was something wrong with you. It was simply a HUGE red flag!
Why were you not married? Was it because you were irresponsible? Was it because you had commitment issues? Was it because you were simply a player who wasn’t ready to settle down? Was it simply because you had too much baggage? Why? My top pick was that you were irresponsible and had commitment issues, and I wasn’t about to be the collateral damage to find out why all the others left. I would dodge that bullet, even far before the gun went off!
Anyway, being in the shoes I am in now, I give more grace to others…
I know that there are circumstances that could be well out of our reach, which account for why we are single. It doesn’t mean there is something inherently wrong with us. For me, genotype hasn’t exactly worked in my favour, and even the last person I met towards the end of last year, who was more than happy to come home and meet my parents was genotype incompatible (we were both AS), so I vetoed that he was not coming home… I am not starting what I cannot finish. Until I can control the odds and outcomes, I simply do not have the luxury of playing chess with my life, my children’s future and my family generations.
My heart would break to death to hurt my children or spouse all in the name of love; or put them in the same position as I am in today; to leave them without options, should any one of them ever have the SS gene. It will kill me with sadness, because I knew the repercussions and didn’t take caution — it is better not to know, but to know and default is a much greater crime.
So, here is a REASONABLE EXPLANATION as to why I’m not married yet. I am AS; I carry the trait, and unfortunately the last 3 prospective partners I’ve met have also been genotype incompatible (meaning they were also AS, and one who was SC). If things weren’t so nuanced, perhaps, you’d have received my wedding invitation in 2020. But here we are, 3 years later, talking about this same thorn in my flesh…
But I am not angry, neither am I desperate. I simply make do with my life and what God has given me. I cannot weep over what doesn’t exist for me; I cannot wish upon a star. Does it hurt sometimes? Yes, well, only when I talk about it like today, because this is a very raw, vulnerable topic for me, and if you really want to know the truth, then here it is shared with you.
There are many other reasons why people also assume that I am single. They think I am too picky — maybe I am. They think I have unreasonable expectations like fidelity and exclusivity — maybe I do. They thing I am too smart or intimidating as a woman — maybe I am. They think that I may not be that domesticated — maybe I should carry a placard on my forehead that shows I can cook, clean and do laundry. They think I have too many boundaries — maybe I do actually have healthy boundaries…
People think many things, and many of those things may or may not be true. But the greatest stumbling block for why I am where I am today in my love life has been genotype. None of the “things” that I supposedly am or am not, have stopped me from meeting amazing men — and I have met quite a few. And this is my tragedy — to have seen a promise land and not have been able to enter it, not once, not twice.
I’m not a perfect woman — I am actually uncomfortable when people hold me in high esteem, because I know I am flawed with imperfections. I am not perfect, but I am good. I am a good person. I have a good heart. My conscience is a clean, soft pillow. I try. I really do. But all I can give is all I have to give.
I’ve learnt to be content with what I have, and to trust God to direct my path, that this somehow is leading to a beautiful destination, and that somehow by vulnerably sharing my perspectives, others in similar situations feel liberated, like they’re not alone.
I do not have it all, but I have a beautiful life. I have an amazing family that supports me and loves me to bits. I have a fantastic job and career that I absolutely enjoy. My health is okay right now. I can pay my bills. I am alive. I am truly a happy woman. I have waakye, books, writing and other cheap thrills. I’m in a thriving relationship with Jesus. I’m in Germany on a 2 and a half months fellowship programme fully sponsored by the German government. I signed a SUPER BIG break today for a dream job I’ve been eyeing for a few years now. In so many ways, life is going well for me, and I choose to focus on those things, rather than what’s not there, and sulk about the “unfairness” of life. I try not to allow the little dents of personal “lack” define the wholistic perspective I have about my life… I have a great, good life and I’m content and grateful to God for showing me his mercy and favour.
A few weeks ago, someone posted a picture on a group page that said, “Lately, I’ve noticed everybody looks okay until you eventually have a deep conversation with them. And then you realize that this is a sad generation of people struggling to survive through smiling faces and pretty pictures.” I understood what he meant, but I replied, and I want to share that reply I gave him with you today…
I said, “Happiness does not mean that we do not struggle through certain imperfections or challenges within our lives sometimes. I find that these two circumstances are not always mutually exclusive… They can co-exist simultaneously, and that too is an authentic reality. We can be happy and still struggle. We can struggle and still be happy… it does not always translate as being “fake.”
Honestly, the more I live, the more unshy I become about sharing my perspectives — I know what everyone struggles, albeit differently, no matter how brilliant life looks on the outside. Challenges are what make us innovative and resilient.
So, if you see me smiling after today, it is not fake. My happiness is not fake…
Anyway, we’re here so that you can stop asking me the obvious answer to the question I now feel squirmish about… So, if you see me, unless you are bringing me an amazing, godly man, who is blood group O+ and genotype AA, please do not ask me why I am single/unmarried.
If I’m in a peachy mood, I’ll send you a link to this blog post…
#robbiewrites #radiantrobbie 17.5.2023
