Bolivia

Bolivia, by Havi Brooks [link].

I am thirty three years old and have not once seriously considered moving to Bolivia.

It’s weird, because normally I wouldn’t even mention that.

But here we are. Most women do end up moving to Bolivia.

And by my age, you’re pretty much expected to have already moved there or at least you’re supposed to be trying really hard to get there.

To be clear: I have nothing against Bolivia. It seems like a lovely place. Just not one that pulls me. It has never called my name.

And even though I don’t talk about my relationship (or non-relationship) to Bolivia, we will talk about it today.

Because I have words that need to be said about loneliness, power and the extremely problematic word: “choice”.

To be honest, I have wondered about moving to Bolivia, but I have plenty of things to do here and now. There are plenty of remarkable and rewarding things I can do in my lifetime without going there.

Also, this metaph0r works for more than one "women's issue" subject to societal pressure. I'll bet it works on some for the menfolk as well :-)

Giving thanks for a single life.

So it's Thanksgiving. Turkey. Family. Watching Macy's on TV, and then barreling into your local Macy's the next day.

Different families behave in different ways, and "good" and "bad" are mostly based on our points of view.

However, the least helpful question that a Spinster can get during the holidays is probably:

"So, when can we expect to see you married?"

Whether you are barely making ends meet in your half of a shared studio with a cafe job, or making billions of dollars at a 24/7 career that takes you to Japan every third Monday, there may be something amiss. You haven't invited your extended family to a big wedding with an open bar, or added to the pile of children screeching and wrestling on the living room floor.


One year, my aunt was (justifiably) bragging about her adorable grandchildren, and Mom began to simper and imply that she'd like some too. I suddenly sat up, eyes wide with pleasant suprise, and exclaimed:

"Wait, so you want me to do the kids thing, but not the husband thing? OK, cool, I'll keep that in mind!"

Never spoken of since. Win!


This week, I am thankful that I get a quiet three day weekend of food and low key family time (if I am lucky), and playtime with the family cat. When I get home, I will have a mountain of leftovers in my fridge, a nice apartment, a job to resume on Monday, and all the pumpkin pie to myself. Unless I invite some friends over to eat it with me, like I did last year. And that's a pretty good life :-)


How do you deflect/disarm such questions? Do Bachelors get the same hassling that Spinsters do?