bridesmaid revisted

According to some evolutionary psychologists we all move through life trying to find the most successful, intelligent, attractive, healthy partner that will be willing to be with us. For obvious reasons, this theory was running through my mind as I spent the weekend at an old friend's bachelorette party. I watched the bride, draped in a bright pink feather boa, her cheeks flushed, surrounded by people committed to making her feel beautiful and desirable (which she was). I wondered how this wedding-season ritual could be connected to our relationship hard-wiring. Coupled people like to tell single people that you have to be okay with yourself before you can be in a relationship and that nothing is sexier than confidence. I used to think that (often unsolicited) advice was about “catching” a partner. But now, I wonder if it has more to do with staying together. Maybe the only way we can feel content pairing ourselves with one person is to feel like we are at our peak when we do it—that at that moment we are going to get the best of what’s around, because we are at our best, too. That kind of confidence is hard to grab hold of, and even tougher, if not impossible, to sustain. It runs, like mascara the next morning; it sags and sputters and stinks up the bathroom. In theory, our partners could be our reminders, but if you have to be okay with yourself before you can be in a relationship to begin with, my hunch is, that qualification is also what keeps a relationship working. Maybe helping people try to accomplish that long-term confidence is too hard. So, instead, we focus on one night--dress up, throw a party, make the girl feel beautiful. Put her in that magic moment, then give her bottled water at the end of the night to qwell the forthcoming hangover and pay the bill.

That night, I was surprised to be one of only two single women in a group of 12. Most were recently married, getting married, or "about to be engaged." I felt like the one who hadn’t learned the trick, yet—like I wasn't at my best. In these situations, it’s easy to wonder why not, or if you ever will be. The line between bridesmaid and spinster in a hair’s width. As a single woman it’s easy to feel that you’re living out your penance until you discover your own self-worth. It smacks of pre-school—“Go sit in the corner alone and don’t come out until you've learned how to be okay on your own.” When I was punished that way a kid I used to come back after a minute, or even less, “I’ve learned my lesson and I won’t do it again. I’m done crying now.” I still do it--but the grown up version, a few weeks after a heartbreak: “I’m really doing well on my own. I’m happy with my life and I’m not really looking for anyone right now.” (Can I come out of the corner now and find the man of my dreams?) Even biologists agree were always looking for a mate, but wise, coupled friends insist the only way to find "the one" is to stop looking. I think I'm still too hungover from the weekend to sort out the genetics from the social norms and pick sides. So, I'll stay skeptical of it all and single, I guess.

Sometimes I feel like I haven’t learned how to be “okay” on my own; to be at my best without the proof of a partner by my side. But in reality, I’m doing it everyday. And I’m proud of it. My bare fingers are tan and strong; I can feel growth, incline ahead. For the moment, I can’t imagine anything more satisfying to be committed to than that.