Don't Blame Me for Being Single and Childless

"I can't believe it!" I huffed to my husband, who was, as usual, working on something in the garage.

"Yeah?" he inquired kindly, unruffled, as usual, by my passionate outbursts.

"Well, Sarah is dating a jerk--again-- and I can't believe it!" I fumed. "She should totally know better, but don't worry," I bristled self-righteously, "I told her what I thought she should do, and she thought I had good ideas."

"Huh," shrugged my husband. "That is tough. I'm sorry to hear that."

I studied him. He had returned to his gadget, apparently unperturbed at what I thought was an unbelievable leap of logic on the part of my friend. My mind was buzzing with ways to fix her decision and bring her back in line.

This particular friend is two years older than me and single. I'm a newly wed of a year and a half, ripe with all kinds of relational and marital wisdom with the kind of a confidence that only the young and the stupid can project.

Seeing my self importance reflected back to me in the face of my husband's calm patience, I reconsidered my reaction. Yes, my friend Sarah is in a bit of a tough place right now, but I wasn't much better just a few years ago.

My husband's reaction reminded me how quickly I could judge someone, blame someone, even, for not being in the same spot in life that I was.

When I was single, I remember married friends sympathetically trying to set me up with dates, or even better, occasionally suggesting that I was just "too independent" for settling down. (Hint, hint: Maybe I'm my own worst problem).

Raised in conservative circles, I was blamed when some friendships went south over misinterpreted romantic overtures. No one patted my shoulder and told me it was just part of the learning curve; no one told me that this was just part of this time in my life.Instead I often felt blamed for "not knowing better" when in reality there was no way that I could.

Now here I was, haranguing a beloved friend for dating a few jerks.

Jerk. You'd think I'd know by now to show a little compassion.

Now that I'm married, I get comments from friends about my life and how it'll change "after I have kids" (they all said what would change after I get married, so logically the next guilt trip has to do with children I don't even have yet)--how my sleep patterns will change, my free time will change, what I cook will change, etc.

"Yeah, you spend money on that now!" they say in response to something I bought. "But wait until you have kids, you won't have money for that then!"

My husband and I are [trying to/learning to] laugh about it. We won't shoulder the burden of experiences we don't have yet. Sue us: we're childless. Meanwhile, we'll listen and take notes; smile and nod a lot.

But it's giving me a lot of pause in considering how I give credit, not only my own position in life, but also where others are at. Whether it's the frustrated mom who's in over her head with the kiddos, or a single friend who's wading through the sea of jerks until she finds a good man, or those like me who are new marrieds, trying to find their balance.

This is the essence of compassion, right? Empathy? Feeling what someone else feels, seeing what they see, regardless of where you are?


I'm learning that it's all about the spectacles.