Accomplishing the dream, or becoming the Cat Lady...

Most people understand that I'm a little different. I'm a little stuck in the middle. The "middle" being my religion, and my desire to live life and have many experiences. For those of you unaware of my religion, being a latter-day saint is not just a Sunday thing like some other religions, it's a lifestyle. Basically everyday is Sunday for us.

There is no break.

This puts a certain amount of pressure on us members. The main thing we are told to accomplish is to have a temple marriage, without this we are basically screwed. This puts a certain amount of pressure on us.

The men have it easy. All they have to do is go on that damn mission and they can come home and pretty much, as a return missionary they have a pick between at the least 2 or 3 girls that they can marry and start a family with, therefore completing the ultimate task at hand for us. It doesn't matter what they look like either. They could be short or tall, fat or skinny, handsome or ugly. It's sort of like the movie Field of Dreams when the voice tells Kevin Costner, "if you build it, they will come" It's the same thing. IF YOU COMPLETE YOUR MISSION, YOU WILL GET MARRIED. If you come home and are not married after 5 years, I would bet money that you are actually homosexual, which I would prefer, it would make church a lot more interesting since I love the gays. But that is niether here nor there, my point is that the men have it easy. Just round up $10,000, take a two year break from the world where you have a gazillion people praying for you every day, and share the teachings of the gospel with strangeres. Then, come home, pick a girl and give her a crappy diamond and your set. Scudoosh, you're done.

The women on the other hand...oh the women. Where do I even start? I'm entering into the latter years of my twenties, and I have been an old maid since I was 25. At least to the Mormon standards I am. In fact, the theme for my 25th birthday party was my becoming an old maid. I even wore a kiss me, I'm a Mormon t-shirt to the bar. Remember, I'm stuck in the middle, bars are included in the middle. When I state the fact that I am an old maid people look at me like I'm nuts. It doesn't help that I still look like I'm 20 years old. But they're right, it's crazy that I feel that way! Just because the fact of the matter is that most female members get married between the ages of 19-22 does not justify that I am destined to a life filled with cats and eating frosting straight out of the can.

The women have to hope that a return missionary will come back and look at them and say, "I want you to be my eternal partner" and then 3 months later they are getting married in the temple. It is a rare occasion where a non-member makes the dreams come true of a girl that was raised with the hopes of being married in the temple. I did see it happen once, and I have to give props to my girl for making that happen. (She knows who she is.) But for the most part, a return missionary is what a young lady is looking for.

I was never looking for that. I fell in love in high school, he was a real catch. Handsome, kind and a loving boyfriend, if all that is the definition of a douche bag. Because that is exactly what he was, a douche bag. I don't like to get into too many details of the ups and downs of our relationship, but he basically broke me. I had to make the decision between him and my faith, and I picked him. I gave up everything for him. I ended up empty handed when it was over. He also set the stage for the rest of the men I would pick to have relationships with, all another version of him, meaning all were non-members and all were douche bags.

It was partially my fault. When people would ask me if I wanted to marry another Mormon I would tell them I wasn't sure. I wasn't lying. I always laughed, and told people that the reason I never dated a Mormon guy was because they never asked me out. This is also a fact. I'm like reverse kitty litter to Mormon guys. They pretty much just stay away from me. This was fine to me, I never was your cookie cutter Mormon girl, I have this edge to me, and a sense of humor that a lot of members don't get. I'm loud, and opinionated, and my mother isn't friends with any Mormon mother's of single men, so they don't ask me on dates out of obligation either. It is what it is.

Until Mr. Perfect I had never dated a member. And so when he came around I fell down the rabbit hole. I was sucked into the whole thing.

I need to back up, let me explain something. I'm not a big traditional person. Yes, I want to get married, but to someone as independent as myself. In describing the perfect guy I would always say, "I want to marry someone who WANTS me around, not someone who NEEDS me around." I also did not have a strong desire to push children through my vagina. I don't really like kids. They have dirty fingers and I wear a lot of dry clean only. This is where I was in my life when Mr. Perfect entered it.

It's as if bizarro me came out and took my place. He wanted six kids, he said he knew he would have six children. I said I wanted four. What? I haven't wanted four kids since I was 10 years old, where did that come from? We would have discussions about the number of our potential offspring until he finally wore me down to agreeing to have six children. I didn't want to change my last name, again, I found myself telling him that of course I would take his last name, nevermind that my last name has done just fine for 20-plus years. There is more, but I won't bore you. I was turning into that cookie cutter girl. I was finding myself changing opinions that I have held strong to for years, all for the dream. Part of me was in shock. I couldn't believe that I had snagged a great catch. He had everything a SMF (single Mormon female) was looking for. I couldn't wait to marry him so I could sort of throw it in all those people's faces. Sort of like, "SUCKER!!! I totally screwed around for ten years and did whatever I wanted, and I still got married to a return missionary, what now?!?" I almost had it in the bag too, I was willing to accept a crappy ring, move out of state and leave everything, including my last name and my childless vagina all for the dream that I have been programed to dream since I was a little girl.

I fell a little short though, we didn't work out, as you all know by previous posts.

So here I am, still an old maid, going back to my old ways. But this time I have that taste of the dream in my mouth. I don't know if I can go back. I don't know if when I get married it will be in the temple. I don't even know if I will ever get married. I guess like Tom Petty says, "the waiting is the hardest part..."

But to all those girls out there still dreaming the dream, if you want six kids, then I know of at least ONE single return missionary out there that is still single. Well, it's been like four months, so he actually might be married by now...