Sheenie’s Blog

This weekend I’ve had the joyful news that another cousin is getting engaged and very soon to be married.  In what feels like a conveyor belt, one by one they’re reaching the front of the check-out to have their barcode scanned and to be packaged into the next phase of their adulthood.

I’m the oldest amongst my cousins from my mother’s side.  Bar me there have been three weddings so far, which will now go up to four by the end of the summer.  Between my family’s Asian friends and acquaintances, the same thing is occurring – those older than me have said their vows years ago and those younger are trying on their wedding gowns as I type this.

Where I once had numerous suitors supposedly asking for my hand in marriage (I’m inclined to believe more my British passport), I’ve since passed that eligibility milestone and now I’m just rudely prodded as to why I am not considering settling down into a married life.  By people who know don’t know me.  And just for amusement, all parties known to me who have tied the knot have not had arranged marriages.

I can’t speak for those who have chosen to get married at 21 or 24 because I don’t know their reasons or circumstances.  I imagine they have been fortunate to be in the right place at the right time. I can’t say I was lucky to come across one eligible bachelor at university.

Some have made it their mission to find a husband.  It’s not unusual to see Asian girls dreaming of the glitz and glamour of a large-scale wedding where they have the excuse to be the centre of the attention, wearing the most exquisite wedding dress and guests turning green with envy at the sight.

In case you’ve not twigged, I’m nearing the end of my expiry date in the eyes of Asians.  I mean, God forbid, an Asian girl still single and 30?!  My parents are happy, why is it anyone else’s business that I’m not married?

I don’t stop to think about marriage and that is exactly what I think about.  I don’t wonder about the wedding or what dress I want to wear, or countless ceremonies in the run-up to the big day.  I take marriage seriously and my opinion has altered as I’ve become older and more sensible.  At 21 I hadn’t a clue, at 24 I wasn’t ready but now as I enter my thirties, what I have in sight is clear.

Yes, I’d like to get married.  I would like a family of my own.  No, I’m not interested in him having a large pay packet nor must he be an investment banker or someone of equally or a higher profession.  I’ve never been impressed by superficial things like that.

I aim to honour the sanctity of marriage wholeheartedly.  I don’t want a grand wedding with 500 random guests I have never seen in my life.  I don’t want to waste an extortionate amount of money on a dress I will wear for a few hours.  I don’t want to be dripping in 24 carat gold and I don’t want a sodding mendhi.  I am more interested in getting an Aga for my dream farmhouse kitchen than to fork out for a frock encrusted in diamantes.  I would like my nearest and dearest friends and family to be present on my special day, the figure I can probably count on both hands.  But most importantly, if or when I get married, it will be to someone I care about and love unconditionally.

I’ve had my fair share of cruel jibes from Asian men I encountered in my early twenties.  Some said I’d be left on the shelf if I didn’t hurry up and get married.  Wise words coming from control freaks.  Perhaps they feel intimidated by strong, independent thinking women.  I owe it all to my daddy for encouraging me to be the person that I am today.  And he knows he’s raised no fool.

As I write this blog, I worry about others much younger than me.  My cousin who’s just turned 17 is already grooming herself and practising her Colgate smile in pictures she’s plastered on her page on a social networking site.  I won’t be surprised if she’s the next one to walk down the aisle.