“Actually, I’ve just completed a BDSM course and I have to find a master before I can find a husband.”
That, Kids, became my standard go to answer during the festive season of 2015/2016 whenever some idiotic distant relative, family friend or stranger asked when I’d be bringing someone home for them to meet.
Look, I understood that some of them hadn’t seen me since Bush and Mbeki were presidents but it still didn’t give them the right to so personally invade my space and ask such an intimate question.
As I have said before, if they asked stupid questions, they’d get stupid answers. At the very least, they had no comeback for my answer and I could walk away, leaving them as flustered and embarrassed as they’d made me feel. Mic drop!
Asking me that question outright was still infinitely better than being ignored completely in favour of my attached sister or having to suffer awkward, ill-thought out questions about my job when conversation dried up.
Just because I was single did not make me uninteresting or unworthy of attention, people! I had friends, interests and I was generally quite smart – how sad were my interrogators that the only thing they could talk about was their children’s weddings and how many people had attended their receptions? Now who’s being a dull jackass, huh?
After a few more of these run-ins, I decided to avoid all family events and luncheons for a while again and spent time with your loving Aunt Sam and our friends at fun concerts, shows and beach days because after all, life is for the living and being loved and accepted just as you are …
Next time on How I Met Your Father: Confessions of Cape Town’s Bridget Jones Part 2