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Twenty years ago Natalie, a close friend growing up, got married one month after college graduation. At the bridal shower, her mom said, “One day soon, Laurel, we’ll be throwing one of these for you!” It feels like this happened only yesterday, and it could have.
I spent my twenties working, partying, and sowing wild oats, my thirties were about achievement, self-actualization and coming into my own.
Friends got engaged or married along the way, but I always maintained a fairly large circle of single friends. We had each other and nothing about our lives seemed out of the ordinary.
But still, even in this day and post-feminist age, lurking when I least expect, someone will come out with, “You can only wait so long, Laurel, before you’ll need to settle down, get married and have kids.”
My mom has an entire drawer full of baby clothes for my unborn baby, but I’ve never once been pregnant. Whenever a girlfriend of mine has a baby, mom pulls out a baby outfit with the tags still on, and says, “This was supposed to be for my grandchild.”
Dad calls from prison and tells me, “You really need to think about settling down.”