I suppose the correct grammatical phrase would be “Bridget Jones and I.”  However, wouldn’t you agree that it just doesn’t have the same ring?

Miss Jones and I had a party last night.  Torrential rain flooded my sidewalk whilst I was cozy inside, puppy on one side and fluffy pillows on the other.  Yes, I know “Bridget Jones’ Diary” is irreverent and such.  But it’s also damn funny and made me laugh out loud, which is just what I needed on a Saturday night alone.  Now, don’t get me wrong, my couch was the location of choice for this over-worked girl.  But I will be honest and say that sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone sit next to me on said couch.  (AND he would have to be okay with my movie selections.)

Turns out, Bridget and I have something in common.  Though we are the exact opposite when it comes to her chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, promiscuous ‘sleep with my boss’ lifestyle, we do share one thing.  Spinster-hood.

If you haven’t seen the movie, she refers to herself multiple times as, yes a “spinster.”  At 32.  And I am 36.  Therefore, I have not only entered this ‘lifestyle of aloneness’….No, it would seem I am actually in the throes of single lady-dom.

Here’s a history lesson for you: The term ‘spinster’ goes as far back as the mid 14th century and was used to describe women who spun thread, as this vocation was reserved for those unmarried.  Jump to the 18th century, and the definition becomes “women still unmarried and beyond the usual age for it.”  Hmm.  And now let’s go to the 19th century, and we find the definition includes a population of “women so finicky that they refused to marry.”  Hmm again.

But it was during that century that “middle-class spinsters, as well as their married peers, took ideals of love and marriage very seriously, and … spinsterhood was indeed often a consequence of their adherence to those ideals. … They remained unmarried not because of individual shortcomings but because they didn’t find the one “who could be all things to the heart”.  {Disclaimer-though I like this quote, I believe only Jesus can be “all things to the heart.”}

Also, my interesting resource (ie,wikipedia) says, “during that same century, one editorial in the fashion publication Peterson’s Magazine encouraged women to remain choosy in selecting a mate — even at the price of never marrying. The editorial, titled “Honorable Often to Be an Old Maid,” advised women: “Marry for a home! Marry to escape the ridicule of being called an old maid? How dare you, then, pervert the most sacred institution of the Almighty, by becoming the wife of a man for whom you can feel no emotions of love, or respect even?”

So, in my humble opinion it all boils down to this-at the risk of being called this dreadful word, women can now afford to wait.  They can stand on their own two feet, rather than depending on a man to put a roof over their heads and food in their mouths.  They can have jobs and buy their own houses and be happy all on their own.  Confession: I’ve been told on many occasions that I’m “too picky”-implying this to be a negative trait.  “And?” I want to reply.

Because what’s wrong with being ‘picky?’  And I’m not saying we shouldn’t date a man because he doesn’t have good taste in clothes or because he has a physiological trait he can’t help.  No, the ‘picky’ I’m talking about has much more to do with matters of the heart.

I’m spiritually ‘picky.’  I know enough about God and myself to know that there is not a man on this earth who will ever be who He is to me.  No man can be my Savior.  No man can pursue me the way He does.  No man can minister to my soul like the Holy Spirit.  And because I have all of this in my Lord, I am okay.  Mostly.  I will admit that I’m not okay all of the time.  But the majority of the time, I’m really okay with my life as it is.

And so, this is why I will hold out for as long as it takes for the ‘right one.’  The one who will be more interested in my heart and mind, more-so than my outer appearance.  The one who challenges me to greater faith in God.  The one who will put aside himself and his own desires for the sake of my honor.

And if a gentleman (and notice I said gentleman) approaches me, yes I will be more than happy to accompany him to coffee or chocolate cake.  And we’ll see where it goes.

Until then, welcome to spinster-hood, I say.