Just That: Trapped.

Go on and marinate on that for a minute. 

In less than two weeks, my cousin is getting married.

She is the first cousin in the group of cousins I grew up with that is getting married. Rightfully so, she is the oldest one.  She just turned 29 in June, and in Indian culture, for a female, getting married that “late” in life is considered taboo.  Even my parents, who are far more progressive than many other Indian parents, have told me that I need to get married by 25 or 26.

Let me remind you that I’m 22.  And with my track record, there is not a chance in hell that I’m going to be married by 26.

My second oldest cousin that I grew up with is turning 27 in September, and her mom already told her that she won’t be paying for my cousin’s wedding because she is over 24 years old, which was her marriage “deadline.”  In my cousin’s defense, she was in a relationship at 24, but it was abusive.

The older generations’ ideas that women are to be married at a young age are deeply rooted in the culture: my mom got married at 19, my grandmother at 17, and my great grandmother at 16.  The sheer thought of me getting married at any of those ages can’t fully register in my head; it is so incredibly and unbelievably insane.  I don’t even consider myself an adult right now; I couldn’t even fathom stepping into adult hood at any of those ages by walking around a pit of fire seven times.

To be totally honest, I still can’t see myself doing that now or in the future.  Maybe it’s just because I haven’t found the right man, but I have never really picture myself getting married.  I have always been a really independent person; I don’t (or at least try not to) rely on other people for things.  When I do, most of the time I end up regretting it. Growing up, I’ve had crushes, but never envisioned myself in a relationship (that could also be attributed to low self-esteem).  Prior relationships and attempts at relationships have failed because I felt too tied down because of the other person, a feeling I cringe at.

But the thing is, just because I don’t necessarily want or picture myself marrying doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with someone.  I would like a partner, and definitely want kids, but the whole idea of marriage is still up in the air.  And it’s kind of strange that it is. I’m the product of a good marriage: my parents have been happily (or so it seems) married for 30 years.  The two sets of aunts and uncles that I’m closest to have also been happily married for around the same amount of time.

But outside of this small group, many of the other marriages that I am exposed to are verbally and emotionally abusive, incredibly male dominant, which is everything I do not want.  But it is so prevalent in Indian culture (I say this as if there is a chance of me getting married to an Indian man, HA!  Never say never, though). And despite my exposure to really successful marriages, it is that bad ones that are imprinted on me.  I see my aunts getting abused constantly, being told they are dumb and don’t do anything right, and they just sit there are take it.  And that scares me.

On top of that, with some places saying divorce rates are as high as 50%, it deters me from even wanting to commit myself to someone on paper.  This isn’t to shit on anyone who has gotten a divorce, but I hope that people don’t strive to marry knowing that if it doesn’t work out, there is always divorce.  If I get married, I don’t want to have to go through that. Almost all my friends’ parents are divorced, and some have of “horror” stories of the trauma caused by their parents splitting up.  It saddens me that I am in the minority of my close friends whose parents are still together.

And this is why commitment and marriage scare me.

But, despite my thoughts, the questions will inevitably asked when I come to face all the family and family friends that I haven’t seen in awhile: “Jess, do you have a boyfriend? Jess, when are you getting married?  Your time is coming soon!”  And of course, these questions and statements will disproportionately be asked to the females in attendance , because we are supposed to strive for marriage, and the men have to strive for money, power, and success.  And of course, as a female, my success is based upon whether I marry or not.

Just as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie says it happens in her Nigerian African culture, the same females-striving-for-marriage attitude exists in my culture.  They rarely ask me what I want to do with my degree (which I’m glad for), but instead ask about my non-existent partner and our future nuptial.

It irritates me that I as a woman cannot be thought of as independent from a man, when in reality, that is exactly what I am.  But the reverse of this ideology is so normal to society.  I don’t strive for marriage in my life right now, I strive for success and independence.  I strive to be content with myself.  If in the pursuit of these I do find a man to spend the rest of my life with, then I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

But for now, I’m good.