Irony at its best!

Yesterday I helped out a friend who is launching her own website for her make-up/hair styling business. Our tasks at hand were to dress up in our wedding dresses and have our hair and make-up done for a professional photo shoot. For those who participated, well the ones that were there when I was there, were two divorcees (one with kids, one without), one never-been-married single mum and a 'haven't-been-in-a-relationship-for-over-2-years' late thirty something. All those who were asked but couldn't attend were married with kids and 'doing something' on a Saturday afternoon.

I'm not really a girlie-girl, so my wedding dress was still the way I left it 12.5 years ago with stains reminiscent of a not-so-memorable day. However, I will say that buttons could be done up and boobs were able to be strapped down into something I wore when I was twenty-five, which is a mean feat to be proud of.

As the MAC make-up was applied by my 'mostly-single, married-to-her-job' friend starting her new business venture, the conversation rotated around men - what they are good for, what they are not. How relationships dissolve, and how selfish men can be. It actually took up some of the conversation that I posted a couple of days ago 'Finding time to be you.' The 'engaged' hair assistant talked about how her fiancee said that he still needs to have his golf day on Sunday if they were to ever have kids, where she couldn't see a way that she could have time for herself. They were conflicted about the compromises each of them will have to make - she making all the compromises, he living they way he's used to. The divorcee who has been in a live-in relationship with another for a short period realised too, that once she moved in with him, she was his domestic slave and only took over the role of his mother. Where can a single woman find a man with a equal level of responsibility, maturity and not be disillusioned by their woman being career-successful?

As we strapped ourselves into corsetry, satin and lace, it was decided that all the good men were taken. But most of us were happy in our own space. To go home and dive under the covers, watch a chick-flick with a bowl of Thai Green Curry - something a meat-and-three-veg man couldn't stomach. A place where we could drift off to sleep wherever our tired bodies lay, cuddling up to a cushion or a cat in our own state of harmony. For most of us, that is our bliss.

So as we smiled for the camera, we smiled for our independence, not for the clothes we wore. We were married to ourselves and the liberty that it offers. Even though it's nice to have a man on tap when you need him, the sacrifice of losing your own space to their demands and lifestyle really isn't worth it. Here's to all the girls who enjoy being single!