’Tis the season to be jolly or rather, ’tis the season when old family friends and my mother enquire as to why I insist on spending another year childless.

Every single year without fail, my mother will ask about when and how we are going to put up the Christmas tree and this seemingly innocuous question will quickly be followed by a generous helping of Catholic guilt. Of course, that’s just the entrée. By the time we get to dessert, I would probably be thinking wistfully of a jaunt in Afghanistan.

You see, despite the fact that my mother has done everything possible for me to have the best education available, the fact that I am not falling over myself to marry and become the mother of five seems to be a great source of disappointment for her and, apparently, she’s not the only one driving the guilt train to Shamesville.

In reality, I can’t really blame her. The thing is that although women of my generation feel less guilty about not producing an heir and a spare to carry on the family name, it was very difficult for the women of my mother’s generation to do the same. Women of her generation constantly got mixed messages about their roles and, as a result, we now have women obsessed with keeping house and raising their children like their mothers did despite the fact that they weren’t juggling cake making and housekeeping with a nine-to-five job.

More and more people are standing up and owning their choices

The thing is that while my mother is genuinely confused by my lifestyle, my choice of friends and the fact that I spend most of my money on bags and shoes instead of sensible things, I find that many people of my own generation seem to be less forgiving. It’s almost as if by having myself a good time, I am invalidating their very different choices which I am obviously not.

Judgement always comes from the most unexpected places too, with people cheerfully informing me that “once I’m settled”, I won’t have time to meet my friends anymore because I will apparently have more pressing things to do with my Saturdays, like visiting the supermarket.

One particularly smug acquaintance even told me that I’m not dreaming of wearing a big white dress yet because I simply haven’t met the right guy. The thing is that while this kind of mindless chatter doesn’t particularly affect me (quite frankly I have never looked for validation outside of myself and I’m  too sure of my choices anyway), other women I know have not left exchanges like this so cheerfully.

Comments like the one above can not only hurt someone but it can also make people settle into the wrong relationship just because they don’t want to be alone, and the results of this can be catastrophic. The truth is that, historically speaking, people have always had a problem with other people who do not particularly want to fit in with the status quo and instead of embracing differences, they choose to project their insecurities on to others for daring to be different.

What many don’t bank on is the fact that more and  more people are standing up and owning their choices instead of just falling miserably into them to fulfil someone else’s expectations.

All I can say to everyone out there who will find themselves being questioned about their life choices this Christmas season  is: You are the author of your own novel. Don’t let others write it for you.

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