Sarah Clark’s Perspectives on Being Thoroughly Unmarried

Ever the astute social observer, I have noticed that an alarming number of weddings this season have been for people my own age. Some of them are for people I know. The rest are friends of my roommate who, at last count, knows at least 1,245 recent brides. I actually think Lindsey is on a wedding mailing list because of the startling frequency of thick cream-colored envelopes she receives, but that’s another story.

For me, these ceremonies are as mystifying as they are exciting. Mystifying because I am so young, so single, so thoroughly unmarried that I can’t truly fathom how someone else can be ready to be intimately connected to only one person for the rest of their lives, at least in theory. Exciting because when else can you legitimately get away with drinking a gallon of pinot grigio, terrorize mauve-clad bridesmaids, wear your own self-selected strappy shoes, show-off undeniably original dance moves and be recognized as the exotic “friend from California”?

I am even getting good at predicting who will be next. For example, one of my friends recently started shopping for a diamond. I wasted no time in concluding that he was most likely going to propose to his long-time girlfriend, as he has never been known to wear jewelry himself. After another friend whispered that the man she had been dating was a “keeper” and probably “the one”, I quickly deduced that she wasn’t going to leave him any time soon for the cute guy checking her out from across the room.

I feel like I just graduated from college, which is far too young to be married in my opinion. I choose not to let the fact that my younger brother will graduate next year intrude on my perception. He isn’t one year younger; he is four years younger. Clearly, my brother Matthew is now way too young to be married.

Oddly enough, my parents have even started to make comments about marriage and grandchildren. After leaving Lindsey’s dog, Berkeley (or Bezerkeley as he is commonly called), with my dad for a few hours, he later referred to the experience as training for being a grandfather. Grandfather to whom? Matthew is not the slightest bit pregnant. Then, later that same weekend, my mom mentioned that she and dad had decided that they wanted to live near their grandchildren. I wondered if there was a special neighborhood to which she had been alerted and whether they were moving there anytime soon. After a few glasses of wine, they both seem to find reasons to pepper conversations with words like “marriage” and “wedding”. I would love to know whose marriages and weddings they’re talking about. But they never name names.

When I was younger I would occasionally glance at the various magazines dedicated to the “Princess Bride”. I’m not a huge fan of white, except for gym socks and t-shirts. Nevertheless, I still thought I at least had a decent grasp on the concept of planning a wedding. I throw as many parties as Lindsey’s white couch will tolerate, so what could be so much different about a wedding? Well, apparently everything. A little over a year ago a friend from Memphis was completely consumed with planning her wedding. To keep herself organized she had a checklist and a timeline. I decided that I would do my own checklist just so we could compare notes. I figured I could help her out if she was overlooking anything. My list had five things on it:

1. Groom
2. Guests
3. Dress
4. Church
5. Party (music, food, and wine inclusive)

Her list included 637 things, as well as the necessary dates by which each item should be accomplished. I began to see the wisdom of eloping.

Of course, you may point out, all the planning in the world is irrelevant if there isn’t a significant other in the picture. I agree. Thankfully, there is no lack of significant people in my life. However, the fact that I often have the attention span of a 7-year old with ADD has been known to be an issue.

By now you’re nodding your head knowingly. You’re either thinking that I have “commitment issues” or am an aspiring writer for “Sex in the City”. I am neither. Nor am I a child of divorce. Rather, I have had the enormous privilege of being raised by two people who are still happily married. They exhibit no outward signs of “staying together for the kids”. Rather, they seem to be having more fun together than just about anyone else I know. As a result, they are our best friends; human, funny, passionate, flawed, and deeply loving in both their words and actions.

So, rather than view my situation as one that is stunted or lacking in some way, I prefer to think of it as a tremendous opportunity. I have the confidence to wait forever, if necessary, for the man that makes me look forward to having a great time as one half of our children’s best friends.

Sarah Clark is a gorgeous, young woman in her mid-twenties who enjoys life to its fullest. She spends her days doing marketing for an international software company traveling the world on their behalf and her nights fending off battalions of suitors.