Just one, please.

When I was with The Finn, for the first half of my third decade, we both planned on getting married. We “knew” we wanted to be together, have kids together, the whole nine yards. But over time I began to see that the life he had in mind was not the life I wanted. And I saw traits in him that I didn’t want in a partner. Since we broke up I’ve never once wanted to be married. But as thirty approaches, it seems I’ve missed the Commandment that dictates, “Thou Shalt Seek To Entrap A Man In Matrimony.”

When TB moved and that relationship ended, missing him was made worse by people behaving as though I’d just lost a horse race. What initially appeared to be polite sympathy that our relationship had ended was eventually revealed as pity that I had lost a race to the alter. A race I didn’t know I was supposed to be in.

The worst part of the “You Lost” attitude is the unspoken judgment that there must be something wrong with me if I couldn’t entrap my boyfriend into marriage. This attitude was exemplified by my mother who told me, “If he loved you, he’d stay.” I can always rely on my mother to twist the knife after she’s plunged it in.

Many of my single friends relate to the predicament of being pressured into the suspect institution of marriage. JNC has been in marathon wedding attendance and is ready to disembowel the next person who says, “Don’t worry, it will be your turn soon.” Or my personal favorite, “You’ll find someone, too.” The irony that JNC and I have shared is that as we look at the grooms in question, we’re usually thinking, “I’m gonna have to take a pass.” The wide-eyed men staring in horror as their jumbo bride stumbles down the aisle is no prize himself. At one wedding where JNC was given the “your day will come,” treatment, the bride had been asking her for advice on the groom’s outstanding warrant. Yeah, there’s a keeper.

Of course, there are some couples who I'm pleased to see go down the aisle because they seem very committed to each other, and to genuinely want to be married. I admire them for undertaking a huge commitment to each other. I'm sufficiently aware of the seriousness of that commitment that for now, I think it's best that I avoid it.

A recent MSN article, cites a study that 44% percent of husbands have had an extramarital affair and this – wait a minute. Did I read that correctly? FORTY-FOUR PERCENT? Why would anyone get married with these kind of failure rates? Dr. Ruth to makes some sense of the numbers, surmising that the high rate cheating has more to do with the high rate of bad relationships, “My suspicion is that in the vast majority of cases where cheating takes place, there is something inherently amiss in the relationship. So I am quick to dismiss the idea that it’s simply that men are inherently unfaithful.” Dr. Ruth’s optimism not withstanding, that doesn’t really hold out for most of the marriages I’ve seen. Every time a man leaves a woman, it’s been for another woman. Men don’t leave unless they have another woman’s bed to go to.

Growing up, I got to see not one but two marriages break up. The marriages of three women I know well were wrecked by infidelity. Not only did their lives implode, the effect on their self-esteem will last for decades. After all this… marriage just doesn’t sound that fun to me. I don’t want to spend every day looking over my shoulder at every woman who eyes my husband a little too long, or eyeing my thighs for the first suspicion of cellulite that will send him hurtling into the arms of someone younger and firmer.

So if I haven’t made that run to alter just yet, stayed tuned. I may have made the wisest commitment of all – to myself.