Celebrating singledom

Weddings. A joyous occasion or a chance for your smug mate to rub your nose in her apparent happiness?

I'm of the feeling that most marriage events fall by a ratio of 50 per cent at either side of the fence. Some lucky people, dammit, are lucky enough to marry for love and they therefore engage in and take part in their nuptials in honest and warm way that god intended.

Some, including my mother's "friend" (perhaps rather frienemy) Auntie Jenny, marry for sheer smugness. The woman, being of unattractive face and mind and unusually perturbing dimensions of body and arrogance, insisted on a full kit and caboodle white (hah!) wedding, with full lengthy church ceremony, over-expensive and plush reception, obligatory Caribbean fantasy honeymoon and vile groom.

Needless to say this was not a marriage of love it was a marriage of convenience (she rich mean cow, he poor, vain and infidelous) and therefore lasted about as long as his patience (a miserably amusing four months).

I'm thinking that really Auntie Jenny would have been much happier if, instead of dreaming about a fantasy white wedding, she had concentrated on celebrating herself - not celebrating who she could ensnare.

My new workmate Eleanor, who recently split from her long term-boyfriend, and I discussed this today as we derisively snorted at ads in the local paper for a wedding fayre.

"Maybe we should organise a 'single and fabulous' show," she mused. "It would be much more interesting, and there would be pulling potential."

"You know," I replied. "You could be on to something there - we could organise it somewhere phenomenally decadent - like Mustique - no smug couples allowed. Exhibits could include non-wedding "I'm single and amazing" gowns, venues for "career success" celebrations and confectioners offering "I refuse to have a wedding" cakes."

You see that's the thing. There's no celebration for those of us unlucky enough to have not found genuine, warm love.

We're even singled out for pity parties - you know the ones "Poor you. Don't worry you'll find someone soon" accompanied by a chorus of "he's out there" (one I find particularly offensive because, really he might not be) as if being single makes you inadequate, less than a person.

It's written that some of us will be eternally alone on the relationship front - that could be my fate - but why should I mourn that? Yes having a partner is wonderful - and I am honestly happy for all of you who have found one - but there is a whole world of other experience and emotion out there.

Some of us may choose careers, vocations or friends instead - and we shouldn't have to feel bad for that and we shouldn't feel forced into bad relationships to be considered real people.

So from now I'm starting to plan my non-wedding celebration day - aka my "I'm 26 and not afraid birthday party".

I may even treat myself to a "my life is plenty engaging" ring too.

Suze x