A Young Woman of My Age

Moving back home has been nice for the most part. No rent, home made dinners, no utility bills and I enjoy being closer to my family. But of course there are the drawbacks, too. Little independence, living in Norwich, Kansas, lacking any semblance of a social life, no friends and frequent questioning.

Yet, the most frustrating part of moving back home is the community and the values and standards embraced by the community I grew up in. The musty, somewhat archaic mores that sent me looking for some fresh air once I graduated high school. To me, the woman in the kitchen, man marries woman and has family, God fearing whiteness was too much. Something I couldn't endorse. Not to say everyone in my town thinks this way, but it is the predominate majority.

For me, getting an education was essential. Ever since grade school I knew I was going to college, moving away from Norwich. I wanted to see the world beyond the wheatfields. I saw no reason why I couldn't do what boys did, play what they played. If told I couldn't do something I always asked why not. As I grew older I was the minority voice; Pro-Choice, Feminist, Liberal, Agnostic. I was told I was going to hell, compared to Hitler, deemed Femi-Nazi, etc. So, yes. I wanted out.

And coming back has pushed me back into the expected. Here is the most common conversation had with members of my community:
Them: Chelsea! How are you?
Me: I am doing well. You?
Them: Fine. (insert information about rest of family here, most likely a classmate who is now engaged, pregnant or married)
Me: I am glad to hear everyone is doing well.
Them. Yes.....So, I heard you graduated college.
Me: I did.
Them: That's nice. So, do you have a boyfriend or are you engaged?
Me: Um....no. I am single.
Them: You didn't meet anyone at college?
Me: Well, yes...but....
Them: Then why don't you have a boyfriend?

See, college was not a place for me to get some learning. It was a place for me to get a man. My time and the thousands of dollars of debt I am now in would have been better spent on snaring me a nice man. They are not interested so much in what I majored in or the fact that I graduated with honors. Oh, no. They are only interested to know why I am single. I am not a successful member of this community unless I have a ring on my finger or a bun in the oven.

But, my favorite part of this conversation is always the last question. What is the correct response to an obtrusive, rude question like that? The following is a list I have compiled to answer such a question.
1) I am a lesbian. (Which upon hearing the citizen would immediately call other citizens while cleaning the shit from their pants, yet sharing that they are not that surprised to hear it)
2) Because I am a fat, ugly girl. If only I could be desirable. I am only worth something, after all, if a man wants me.
3) I am deciding to do as Hamlet says and get myself to a Nunnery and give my life go God.
4) As you know, fair citizen, I am a hateful, bra burning Femi-Nazi and no man could ever love me because I castrate him with my overt masculinity and need to be superior.
5) Because I spent more time focusing on my studies and working. It is not something I am really looking for right now.

Sadly I always respond with #5, although I do believe #1-4 would make the person I am talking to more comfortable. They could understand those answers a little better. But me not wanting a serious relationship or marriage at my age??? Unheard of.

Don't believe me? Well, of the eight girls in my class, I am the only one not in a serious relationship, married or pregnant. A good amount of the boys are also married and/or have children.

For them and others like them in my town, that might be their dream or what they want. Power to them. I just know at 23, I still want to be selfish. I want to travel more. Figure out myself some more. Be independent. I do hope to one day marry, find a partner to grow and mature with, it is just not something I actively pursue. It will happen when it happens.

Yet, while I let it happen, the town tries to set me up on blind dates or scour the countryside for a suitable suitor.

Pickachu, help me.