Blog Posts by Spinsterlicious

Over the past couple of years it's been clear to me that holidays have become of monumental importance in the American culture. Christmas-December 25-is an entire season. When I was a kid, talk of Christmas began a week or two before the big day. A few years ago, stores began to trot out Christmas decorations on November 1, as soon as the Halloween pumpkins were put away. Last year, though, I noticed a number of stores selling Christmas wreaths right alongside Halloween masks. The Christmas season now begins in October.

And the ads to remind you to buy something, do something-usually something expensive-for Valentine's Day begin right after New Year's Day. Oh, the pressure.

And now here comes Mother's Day. Mother's Day, a national holiday since 1914, when President Woodrow Wilson declared it so, has recently become MOTHER'S DAY!!! It, too, is superlative; it is not to be ignored. The ads started a couple of months ago. Mother's Day is bigger than Christmas

The Spinsterlicious Life --the title of my book and blog-- is about the joys and realities of being a single woman. Whether a woman is single by choice or by circumstance, a great life should be hers. The time spent fretting about what you don't have (a man) would be much better spent celebrating what you do have. That's my philosophy.

But I know a few people who don't agree with me. My book is about being "happily single", and they take issue with that. As one friend said to me: "I'm not Spinsterlicious. I don't want to learn to be happily single because I don't want to be single." I get that; I understand that she doesn't want to be single. What confuses me though is what she thinks the alternative is? She's single. She doesn't want to be, but she is. The way I see it, she can be single and happy -or- single and unhappy. Those really are her only two choices because the option of being married has not presented itself yet.

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Sometimes I am jealous of divorced women. Oh, not for the reason you might think; not because they've had at least one husband and I've had none. I feel jealous of divorced women because they have more social capital than I do. They exist on a higher rung on society's status ladder than I do because I am an eternally single woman with no kids -- a spinster. By choice. There. I said it, I own it and life is good. I've built a pretty nice life for myself but people still look askance at me and my fellow spinsters from time to time. They don't get it; they want to know what's wrong with us, wondering why we aren't married. People understand divorce and even single motherhood. Spinsterhood is puzzling, for some reason.

And, honestly, I'm puzzled about why they're puzzled. According to the Pew Institute, almost 30 percent of U.S. adults have never been married -- a record high. That's a lot of people, so being forever single should seem more... well, normal, but I guess our

A lot of women I know who don't have children make up for it by spending lots of time with their nieces, nephews, and the kids of their good friends. For many of them, it's the best of both worlds: they get to spend time enjoying, teaching, loving them...and then sending them home to their parents. It dawned on me one day that I am not like them.

Life Lesson #6 from my book, The Spinsterlicious Life: 20 Life Lessons for Living Happily Single and Childfree is "Know who you really are, not who you wish you were." It's all about the moment when I learned that I am childfree for a reason.

Excerpted from The Spinsterlicious Life: 20 Life Lessons for Living Happily Single and Childfree. Copyright 2011. All rights reserved.

Life Lesson #6: Know who you really are, not who you wish you were.

Even though I didn't want kids, I used to pretend that I would be actively involved with other people's kids. I was slow to realize that the reason I didn't want

Yesterday, it occurred to me that this whole "being single works for me" stance may be a little overrated. Most of the time I got no complaints. Yesterday, I had a complaint. You see, if I was living with my (imaginary) husband, my day would have gone differently. This is what would have happened if I was married:

Me: Honey, there are ceiling lightbulbs that are burned out in every room. They need to be replaced.

Imaginary Hubby: Yes, Dear. I'll get on it right away.

-10 minutes later-

Imaginary Hubby: Babe, all done!

Me: Thanks, Sweetie. You're the best!

Instead, this is what happened, in real life.

Me (on the telephone to handyman): Hi, Charlie. It's Eleanore. I'm wondering if you can come over to change some lightbulbs in my ceiling?

Charlie: Sure

Me: Great. Can you come tomorrow?

Charlie: Can't do it tomorrow.

Me: Wednesday ?

Charlie: No.

Me: Thursday?

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A couple of weeks ago I ruined an almost-date. I was standing in line waiting to go into an event when a guy, standing behind me, struck up a conversation. We chatted for quite awhile and eventually got around to his divorce. I don't recall the details but I do recall his look of horror when I said something about wanting separate bedrooms if I ever got married. He thought that was a terrible idea. I was pretty sure he was going to ask he out before I said that, but he didn't. I'm not sure if my separate bedrooms idea is the reason he didn't ask me out, but I have learned that talking about the appeal of separate bedrooms can elicit some pretty strong reactions. Maybe I should have waited.

Anyway, that scenario reminded me of a few years ago, when a guy I was dating brought up the subject of marriage. I kind of had a panic attack which I blamed on feeling like I was catching the flu. Once I calmed down (and was safely home), I called my friend, Benilde. As we talked, I tried

Last week, I was interviewed by a dynamic young woman, Julie Miller, who has a blog targeted to women in their 20s, called Life2PointOh. She asked me what advice I would give to 20-something year old women who are contemplating marriage and kids…or not. Here's the interview:

Life2PointOh: When you were in your 20s, what were your thoughts on marriage for yourself?

Eleanore Wells: I recall being very confused because, while I loved having a boyfriend, the concept of "the rest of my life" was one I couldn't grasp, and I was a little embarrassed because I seemed to be the only girl who felt that way. Marriage seemed really hard and kind of boring to me then (and now). I also felt that marriage would stifle me. I have a strong, independent spirit and, back then (the 1970s), it seemed that women had to give up so much of themselves in order to have a "good" marriage. (I think that has softened a bit nowadays). In addition, I was drawn to guys who probably wouldn't make

I think I drove a nice, but naive, woman a little crazy yesterday. I hope I also gave her something to think about. Here's what happened. She and her kid sat beside me on a train to Long Island. I made the mistake of saying her kid was cute. The kid was cute --that wasn't the mistake-- but my comment opened the door to a much too long conversation that eventually led itself to me telling this woman I had no husband and no kids…and that I was ok with that.

Then this happened:

Lady: Oh no! Well, who's going to take care of you when you're old?

Me: I don't know for sure. Who's going to take care of you when you're old?

Lady: Well, I have a husband and kids. They'll take care of me.

Me: How do you know that?

And my "How do you know that" question is when I think she wished she had just chosen a different seat. I went on to lay out all the reasons she was no more secure in her old age than I am. You see, life is really uncertain; there just