At Peace With the Slim Pickings
Posted on Feb 10th 2010 4:00PM by Karla Carrington
Sometimes I feel like an alien because I'm 40 years old with no husband and no children.
As another Valentine's Day approaches, I am single with little to no serious prospects, but am financially sound, emotionally healthy and looking better than I ever have in my life. I'm dating pretty regularly, but can't remember the last guy I actually wanted to see for a second date. I've tried online dating, offline dating and dating after meeting in a line, but all to no avail. To be quite honest, most of the men I meet just aren't up to par.
And apparently, I'm not the only black woman in this position. ABC's Nightline did a segment called "Single, Black, Female and Plenty of Company." I watched this segment intently as four successful single black women much like myself all shared similar stories of slim pickings of compatible mates. In a nutshell, black women are just not getting married as much as white women. The stats speak for themselves: TheFrisky.com reports that 42 percent of African American women have never been married compared to 21 percent of white women. That is DOUBLE people!
Think this applies to just the everyday black chick? Think again. "Let's Talk About Pep" is a new black reality show on VH1 akin to "Sex and the City." Pepa, of famed hip hop group Salt & Pepa, is in search of love alongside three of her best girlfriends. All are successful, financially secure and excel in their respective arenas. Even for this fab group, the pickings are slim. Pep has been celibate for four years in search of Mr. Right. I admire her strength, but that's a long time!
This is not to say that I don't have a guy, because I do. He's 25 years old with a body so hard you could bounce a quarter off it. In fact, I have. He keeps me laughing and we always have a good time. He's content to be at home or on the dance floor as long as it's with me. He is well read and incredibly mature for his age. On some level I love him. But who am I kidding. As much as I enjoy what we have, I know I could never see him as my husband, nor the father of my children. Quite simply, he's just too young for me. I would only feel as if I am holding him back and everyone certainly deserves both the joy and pain that youth offers. I asked him once would he still hold my hand when I'm 80 and he's 65. Being the sweetheart that he is, his response was, "Girl, I would not only hold your hand but I'd slap you on the booty too! All the old ladies in the home would be jealous." He's a great guy, it's great fun -- but I'm not Demi and he's not Ashton.
The strangest part of all of this is that most of what I feel is external. My siblings are all waiting for me to marry and have children. So are most of my married friends. And although I want marriage and children I'm content to have just what I have today for just a little bit longer. It amazes me how many men mention where the hands are on my biological clock when I go out on dates. If they really understood me, they would know that my focus is on the maker of the clock, God -- and not the clock itself.
In its own way it's comforting to know that I am not the only one feeling like an alien because of my status. My only hope is that the other aliens are having as much fun on their planet as I am having on mine. The things that are meant for me will come but I can't mope around about it. Until then all I can do is live and live well.
















