Becoming My Own DINK
Proud DINK.
I recently had a breakdown while making an Ezekial 4:9 religious English muffin.
They come frozen, so I had to take the muffin out of the package and defrost it. When it was defrosted, I sliced the muffin in two and toasted it. I checked the nutrition information while it toasted because I was curious what made this bread so special. That’s when I saw the serving size was half of a muffin.
I’m sorry, but you’re telling me that steps have to be taken to dismantle the product in order to get the recommended serving size? And then I’m wasting half a muffin?
“Why don’t you just eat the whole muffin?” you might ask. And to that I answer, “YEAH, I COULD, BUT I AM TRYING TO DEAL WITH DISORDERED EATING AND ONLY EAT THE SERVING SIZE!”
“Why don’t you share the other half?” GOOD QUESTION.
Because I am a single woman in her thirties and society hates me!!!!
Now, listen here with your eyeballs, this is not a post about being sad that I’m single. Nor is it a post defending my single-dom or tearing down marriage. I do enjoy being single, but I’ve also enjoyed being in relationships! Love is great! I have just always valued independence and following my career dreams, so marriage has never been an important milestone for me.
By writing this post, I’m merely suggesting that being single is really difficult in a society built for men, and married couples.
LITERALLY. Even in the 21st century, the system still favors men. America has not strayed far from its patriarchal ways. While it has become more progressive, it’s still fairly true that men have the most power in a marriage. Just this past year, we’ve seen more women leave the workforce than men due to the pandemic.
As I said, I’m not against marriage. My problem is that I have this weird quirk where I want to be “in love” and “compatible in every way” with a man before we marry. When I say every way, I mean every way. If you’re not checking off every single box, then I don’t want you in my home when I’m trying to eat garbage and watch my stories!!!!
That being said, it’s difficult to be an uncoupled woman of a certain age. Despite having a good, well-paying job (where I’m happy!), I still basically live paycheck to paycheck. I have cut down on every cost that I can. I cook my own food, and I drink cheap wine at home. I have a 401k but I had to stop contributing as much as my employer matches because I needed the extra money in my paycheck. I have student loans and some debt, but nothing too crazy. I recently decided to move to a cheaper apartment, with less amenities and security, so I can start to save.
I understand that I am a cis, straight, white woman and I have a lot of privileges. I can’t imagine what it must be like for a single mother or a single BIPOC mother. On average, men make more than women, but white women traditionally make more than BIPOC women. What a fun hierarchy of privilege.
Yet still, we’d all be richer if we had spouses. Personally, I would save roughly $2,500/month.
I never realized how financially irresponsible I was for spending my adult life chasing down my dream career. I thought once that happened, it’d all be smooth sailing. By now, I thought I’d have a nice home with a fireplace and a wine rack. See how small my dreams are? I’m not even dreaming of a wine cellar, I’m dreaming of a SINGLE RACK!
I never dreamed of walking down the aisle and having my father pass ownership over to my husband. (I joke, but that’s literally what the tradition symbolizes.) But maybe I was looking at it the wrong way. Maybe I was too Daphne Bridgerton and not enough Mrs. Featherington. I should have looked at marriage as a financial opportunity, or a way to invest in my future. I should have stopped being so stubborn with my PROGRESSIVE VIEWS OF MARRIAGE FOR LOVE and married some guy with old New England money. Or some old guy with new New England money.
But that just wouldn’t work for me, and I have a better idea. Since I have spent so much time on my career, investing in marriage-for-money would be a mistake. I mean, it takes so much effort to trick men into falling in love with me. Instead, I’m going to focus my efforts on becoming a DINK.
You know what I mean? Double Income, No Kids? Like Doug’s neighbors on the show Doug? I, however, will be my own DINK. I will work my day job but make a double income by doing whatever work I can on the side. I could perform, direct, or write things, take a left turn and walk dogs, or dust off the old landline and become a sex phone operator. (Is that still a thing, or are we doing OnlyFans now?)
Until then, I’ll be over here struggling. At least I’m happy, drunk on cheap wine and full from the TWO SERVINGS of English muffin I stress ate while writing this.
Let me know if you know anyone who wants to marry *gestures widely* ALL THIS.
You say DINK like it’s a bad thing!