As an introvert with asocial tendencies, I feel for the loners. No, not the solo night herons fishing at dawn, though they were a lovely sight. I'm talking people.
We have all seen them, but most of us pay them no mind. I'm talking about the person sitting alone at the corner booth, the kid surrounded by empty swings, and the one by themselves on the park bench. It makes me hope they are waiting on a friend.
I do realize many people enjoy doing certain things alone. I'm often one of them. But going to a restaurant by myself? That's something I would never do—but this may be more because I cook and eat at home most meals.
But throughout my thirties, a separation divided me from most other women my age; I decided not to have children.
Now, I decided to write about these struggles. Thus, Penn was born: an extroverted lady who loved traveling and going out with friends until her friends had children. In order to develop Penn's voice and attitude, I decided to have a mock interview. It really helped me get into her head. I suggest this exercise for anyone trying to develop a more unique take on their characters. Here's what I came up with.
Q: Having children is something most women want at some point. Why did you decide not to have them?
A: How many of my 345 reasons would you like? *Both laugh* I’m not a nurturing person, I hate celebrating mediocrity—you know, clapping and yaying when a kid throws a ball in the entirely wrong direction—I’m too honest, and after all the therapy I needed as an adult from my parents’ screw-ups, I don’t even want to know how I would mess up a kid…
But if I had a number 1 reason, it would be because of how often other people’s children were pushed on me. Still are. Even people telling me how I “should have them.” I hate anything—expectations, opinions, products, major life decisions—pushed on me.
Q: I do understand that. You don’t think you’ll regret it?
A: Ugh, you wouldn’t believe how many times people tell me I will. It’s none of their business, even if I do. I’m happy with my life now, and I enjoy my work. Adding a kid to that bliss would complicate things. I’m not so naive to think I could successfully split my time between childcare and the job I love. I’ve seen too many women devoted to their work, and they wonder why their kids and marriage are a mess.
Q: It sounds like you have a lot of extra freedom. You’re single too, right?
A: I am, and I love it. If I want to sleep in, I sleep in. If I want to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner in my PJs, I do. I just never had that real desire to wait on a tiny human. Any human, really. My ex-husband was whiney enough.
Q: *Chuckles* Really? Is that what split you two apart?
A: Actually, the kid issue broke us. I did my part. I was honest going into the marriage that I wasn’t sure I wanted kids, but, I guess, *Hums* he secretly hoped I would change my mind? I don’t know. It’s not like that was the only issue we faced, but it became the issue, you know?
Q: That’s a shame, especially if you talked about it beforehand. How long were you married?
A: About three years. It wasn’t all bad. We both loved rock climbing, traveling, and good food. He supported me in all the right ways, except the kid thing. Pressure from his parents and seeing all his friends on kid number two made him feel like he was missing out on some major milestone in life. I do kinda get it, but I just couldn’t devote my life to his dream and give up my own to do something I don’t enjoy.
Q: Kids do change marriage dynamics. Well, you could still meet someone else who shares your dream, right?
A: Oh, no. I am not falling for that one again. I shouldn’t have committed the first time. Dang hindsight, right? The only thing missing from my life right now is good friends who understand I don’t want to babysit their kids. You’d think that would be obvious.
Q: Most women in their thirties do have a child or are at least trying to. That makes it hard to connect, doesn’t it?
A: You bet. Walking into a crowd of women around my age comes with low expectations. As soon as someone plays the kid card, I’m left out.
Q: Can you not raise another topic? Maybe rock climbing or something job-related?
A: *Bitter laugh* My ex-husband used to say the same thing. “Just talk about something else.” Sure, honey, let me interrupt a mom in the middle of detailing her breastfeeding issues to talk about working out and see what besties we become. I’ve gotten blank stares from other mothers just waiting their turn to share their own kid-related issues.
Q: I never realized how easily that could happen. Well, you must have friends at work you can relate to on job-related topics, right?
A: I do, but it’s still different. They all have kids or, in some cases, grandkids. I can’t ask any of them on vacations or even long weekend trips. They can’t afford a babysitter, or their parents either live out of state or aren’t able to help due to health issues. Charity work doesn't pay well, but it's rewarding.
Q: So, it sounds like you need some friends who enjoy your interests and don’t have children themselves.
A: God, that would be amazing. I'm missing our girls' trips to the mountains.
Q: You don't have any friends without children now?
A: Nope. That’s a big, fat 0. But, an idea struck me when I was attending my last divorce recovery group.
Q: And what’s that?
A: *Leans closer* So I couldn’t even make friends in the divorce group because it was full of single parents unknowingly—I hope—using their kids as pawns to hurt their exes. And the men were on the hunt for a rebound. I quit the group and thought “why can’t I make my own kid-free women’s group?”
Q: Oh, that’s interesting! With social media, it should be easy. Do you have a catchy name in mind?
A: I do. The name “Bunless Ovens” came to me…
Penn will have plenty of room to grow. I want to play with the theme of how bitterness can creep up on all of us if we're not vigilant. We'll see how it goes this NaNoWriMo!
Keep on smilin'!
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