[Note: This is one of a series of posts about being single in the Mormon church. Here’s a link to the guest post invitation Here’s a link to the archive for this series.]
Since I was a young girl I’ve loved architecture, houses, and design. When I was in my pre-teen years, my family was designing the house that we would eventually build. I spent my weekends going from cupboard stores to plumbing stores to flooring stores with my parents. I dreamed of the day I could buy my own house. It took a little longer than I had hoped, a few too many years in university and a few too many trips around the world, but at 29 I was finally able to buy a little house with a little backyard. Just. For. Me.
I moved in and eventually got around to attending my new ward. Which, coincidentally, ended up being the same ward that my sister and brother-in-law are in.
Ward Member: Hi. You’re Sarah’s sister? She mentioned you were moving into the ward.
Me: Yes.
Ward Member: So you are living in Sarah and Alex’s basement?
Me: Ummm . . . no? I live in Sagewood; they’re in Forest Glen.
Ward Member: Oh, I see. You must be renting one of those condos up on Jones St.?
Me: No, I live at the bottom of the hill. I own a little house.
Ward Member:But you’re still in school?
Me: Actually, I finished grad school about 6 years ago. Just been working ever since.
Ward Member: Oh, I see. Nice to meet you.
And thus the conversation ends.
Now, if this conversation happened just once or twice, I could probably just laugh it off. I understand that people make assumptions that are sometimes quite wrong; I know I am not found spotless. But variants of this conversation have happened time and time again, and continue to happen a year-and-half later. Both my sister and brother-in-law have also had this conversation with ward members, clarifying, that no, I don’t live in their basement.
I am 31. I am single. I have a graduate degree, am driven in my career and am fortunate enough to live in a city with a bustling economy and plenty of jobs for engineers. Consequently, I can afford to own a nice little three-bedroom house in a mature neighborhood. I own my own home, yes, it is fully furnished, and no, I don’t have roommates; please don’t be surprised.
Now, because I own my home, you would think that I would be ‘old enough’ / ‘mature enough’ / ‘independent enough’ / ‘responsible enough’ (I’m not really sure what is the right phrase here) to make my own decisions and to speak for myself. But, apparently, that is not the case. We’ve all heard of stories where the husband is asked whether or not the wife could hold a calling or would be interested in doing xyz. In my world, since there is no husband in the picture, my brother-in-law is the lucky one to sometimes gets those awkward questions:
Does Amy play the piano?
Would Amy be interested in this calling?
When would be the best time to visit Amy?
I’m grateful that his response is always something to the effect of “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He tells me about the conversation, and we joke about how he should know all the details of my life since apparently I live in his basement.
Now if you’d be so kind as to excuse me, I have a back gate I need to go and repair.
–Maddie
[Previous post in this series: Single Experiences: Cost-Benefit Analysisi from a Single Gay Mormon]
Yeah, so, I think we single people have a weird social status in the church as nascent adults, even when we’re for-real adults. Marriage is like a rite of passage that we have to go through to be considered full members of the adult Mormon community.
Back when I was on the ward council (I asked to be released from this particular calling, but that’s another story for another day), we were involved in planning a state-wide YSA conference. The area authority who was “in charge,” I guess, of a lot of the details had come to our ward council to discuss plans. He asked in particular if we should have people from family wards running the administrative stuff of the conference, like serving food and checking people in and this sort of thing. I kinda recoiled from this suggestion, and said no, that’s kinda ridiculous, we’re big enough boys and girls to be running our own stuff. We don’t need adult chaperones, and it’s both weird and a little insulting to insinuate that we do. I went around the room and said, he’s an aerospace engineer, she’s a paralegal, I’m a Ph.D. student, she’s an R.N., he does cool research with the Navy; the only thing that makes the members of this ward council substantially different from members of the ward council in the family ward down the road is that we don’t have rings on our left fingers.
The area authority was sort of surprised, or startled, and said, “Huh, I’ve never thought of it that way. I’m really glad I came to this ward council to hear this perspective.” And I was surprised that he was surprised, because he was unmarried once. Maybe not for long enough to really experience this sort of funny status issue, but he had to have felt this way a little bit at some point. You know?
Have fun fixing your gate! :)
How weird that must be. I feel for you bro.
I’ve experienced the same thing. I’m 32, a lawyer at a major law firm, and I live in a well-furnished high-rise apartment. When I aged out of the singles ward, the family-ward bishopric came to visit — the reaction was something to the effect of, “Woah, it’s like a grown-up lives here! You’ve got real furniture and everything; my wife would love this place.” Because apparently single men are supposed to be living with cardboard boxes and folding chairs, or something. (Which, sadly, is too often true. I’ve noticed that many single people in the church seem to internalize the message that they aren’t true grown ups and continue living in “freshman dorm” mode well past college.)
(Which, sadly, is too often true. I’ve noticed that many single people in the church seem to internalize the message that they aren’t true grown ups and continue living in “freshman dorm” mode well past college.)
This is really true.
My youngest daughter is 33 no longer a YSA. Owns 3 houses which are all rented out. She is a bomb technician for the Australian Federal Police (a cross between the FBI and CIA). Has just bought a new car but still lives at home, because it costs less and she can rent out the houses.
I don’t get asked, as her father, to speak for her at church, but it is amazing how often people will spesk to me rather than her. I went with her when buying her car and had to tell both the sales and service people it was her that was buying the car, more than once. She did all the research and bought a Citroen C4 e deisel which does 4.2l/100k close to 90mpg.
We don’t know whether her job is intimidating, she is a nice girl but rarely gets asked out.
Though I’m not a homeowner, I am single and currently living in Europe and going to graduate school after having won a pretty prestigious academic prize back in the States. I had my first Sunday at the local ward this past week, and once we get past the “Hello, my name is” bit, the woman I’m talking to says, “So, is your husband studying here, or…?” Seriously? You are meeting me, and I’m clearly here by myself, so why would you assume that I’m only here on my hypothetical husband’s coattails? Thankfully, restraint won out, and I could simply say, “No, I’m not married, I’m studying at the Diplomatic Academy”. It is so frustrating to have people assume that I can’t be the one who is doing things; it must be my husband.
I was married at 27, after I finished grad school and had a legitimate career. I think I’m a fairly interesting person–I’ve traveled a lot done some out-of-the-ordinary things. I did decide to stay home at least while our kids are little and somehow that has become my complete identity in the eyes of anyone at church. It frustrates me to no end that no one ever thinks to ask anything about me beyond the number and age of my children. I love them dearly and don’t mind talking about them, but I do exist as a well rounded person outside of motherhood. I do get asked frequently abou tmy husband’s career and background. It’s like everything I did before marriage and kids was just a placeholder…not anything that would be of any consequence, or that would be helpful in getting to know me. I think that is where a lot of the issue lies…your “real” life only starts when you start your family. Quite frankly the fact that it seems to be the predominant attitude in our culture…well, sucks.