40 Year Old Virgin

I admit I am a tad nervous about this post! I really believe in what I'm about to say, obviously, but it's just not the sort of thing you talk about, is it?! The thing is though, maybe it should be, and so, well, here goes...

If you've ever heard me do a talk on singleness, or read my book (and if you haven't, do buy it here... https://www.eden.co.uk/shop/single-minded-4066886.html!!), then you'll have probably heard me say this, but there's something a bit different about actually writing it down.

Anyway, you may recall that in 2005 a Steve Carell film came out called The 40 Year Old Virgin. I've never seen it, and I don't intend to, but it doesn't take a genius to work out what it's about. The main character, Andy, played by Carell, is a virgin. His friends, his work colleagues, the girlfriend he eventually finds - none of them can believe it. It must be a joke, surely?

A review in Entertainment Weekly said that Carell "plays him [Andy] in the funniest and most surprising way possible: as a credible human being." Wow. It's surprising that a 40 year old virgin could be a credible human being. Really, wow.

This is literally my life, and apparently it's a joke. I mean, it all seems to be going pretty well to me, but evidently it's so impossible and hilarious and ridiculous that people make comedy films about it. How is that supposed to make me feel? Well I don't suppose the people who made the film thought about it, because they probably didn't imagine there were any actual normally functioning adults in that category. I remember years ago a GP literally refusing to believe I was a virgin - and I was only about 22 at the time!

I've become much more aware lately of how often the word 'virgin' is used as a joke. Still. Twice in the past few weeks it's been a punchline to a joke on Mock The Week - it's always something around dinosaurs and comic books and cartoons (for men) and cats and bags and patterned jumpers (for women) and yada yada yada nerds and frumps don't have sex. It's such a ridiculously lazy and stereotyped attempt at humour. It's like being in some kind of adult school playground equivalent where the worst insult/punishment you can think of is not having sex. I mean, I love MTW but seriously, 1989 wants its jokes back.

For several years now I've joked when I've done singleness talks that when I turned 40 I was going to get a tshirt made saying 40 Year Old Virgin. Well, in April this year I celebrated my 40th birthday and I just thought - what the heck! So it was that at the 3 singleness seminars I did this year at New Wine events, I wore the tshirt you can see in the photo below.

What was fascinating about it was the reaction it provoked, in others as well as in me. I didn't wear it all day, partly out of embarrassment, but mainly because I didn't want to be the cause of lots of little kids turning to their parents and asking at full volume, "Muuuuuuum, what's a VIRGIN?" So I only put it on for the seminar, in fact there was a 'reveal' moment in the middle. It got a lot of laughs, and to my surprise hasn't yet ended up online! But I was aware that, even though I had chosen to do this, and was fully on board with the point I wanted to make, there was still a bit of me that felt awkward and embarrassed, like there was something odd or wrong about this. Cultural expectations really can get in our heads, can't they?

And the reactions from friends I told about it was interesting too. Most laughed uproariously and cheered me on (and dared me with other places I should wear it!). Lots said I was "brave." Some looked genuinely a bit horrified, and obviously didn't know what to say.

A month or so on and I'm still pondering. I guess I can legitimately still wear the tshirt until my next birthday eve. To be honest I doubt it will get another 'outdoor' wear. I'm glad I did it though.

Because,here's the thing. I AM A VIRGIN AND MY LIFE IS GREAT. There. I said it. Now, I realise there will be some people reading this who are virgins and whose life is not great. It's not as if the two things automatically coexist. And my life isn't *always* great, obviously - whose is? Sometimes people write to me to tell me how horrified they are about my singleness/celibacy commitment because they simply don't think it's possible to live a happy or fulfilled life that way. Well, here I am, giving it my best shot.

Would my life be different if I'd had sex, if I'd got married, if I'd had kids? Well obviously. Would it be better? There is literally no way of knowing that. Would I change it if I could suddenly have those things? Do you know, I wouldn't - it's taken me a while to get to the point where I can honestly say that, but I can. (I mean don't quote me on it a week on Thursday, because you just never know...).

This is my calling, and so I know some people think it's 'easier' for me to live this way (like it's always so 'easy' to live out the stuff God calls us to, right?!). But it's my belief that for anyone who isn't married, sex isn't an option, we're called then to celibacy. It's such a misused, misheard, misunderstood word. We've made sex such an idol, such a symbol of our supposed freedom and choice. And sex within a loving marriage may well be a wonderful thing (although it isn't always). But I don't believe sex is necessary for a contented life, I truly don't. It is sometimes REALLY hard to live without it (!) but actually there can be real joy and freedom in that.

And I want younger people to look at what lies ahead for them and to know that they have options. I want them to know that things can be ok even if your life doesn't look much like the plan you had in mind for it. I want them to know that you can be whole and complete even without marriage, sex and kids. I want them to know that living God's plan for you is the best life, whatever that looks like. I want them to know that there are incredible and unexpected blessings literally hidden in amongst the pain and the sorrow.

And I really, really want them to know that there's no shame in being a 40 Year Old Virgin.

Party of One - Book Review

I don't read all that many books on singleness, to be honest. I've always been pretty picky about them. I had to read a lot prior to writing one, for research, and there weren't many I loved. It's one of the main reasons why I wrote Single Minded, because there wasn't a book which said exactly what I wanted to read.

Party of One also doesn't say *exactly* what I wanted to read (but it's ok because I've already written a book that does!!). It is, however, really rather good.

Party of One is written by Joy Beth Smith, who's an American journalist. You can tell that, to be honest, because it's a really well written book, which keeps you turning the pages, and often has you laughing out loud. I also highlighted and underlined loads of it too, which is a sure sign of a book that I've really enjoyed (with apologies to all book purists - but if anyone did that to my book, I'd take it as a real compliment!)

Joy begins by describing how, for 15 years, she wrote a monthly letter to her future husband. (This is one of quite a number of points in the book where as a British reader there's a fairly major culture clash. I don't know anyone in the UK who's done this, and it's a reminder of how different both the church and the singleness scenes are in the UK and the US.) Anyway, one day she realises this is not a helpful strategy, and burns all of the letters. She says that she realised that "God has promised me many, many things: joy, intimacy with him, comfort, the presence of the Holy Spirit, and eternal life, to name just a few. But I'll never find the promise of a husband, of a beautiful, fulfilling marriage, tucked away in the back of James or even alluded to in Psalms."

This was the first paragraph in the book that I highlighted, and I was already hooked. It's so easy to believe marriage is somehow our 'right', something that we are owed, or deserve, but this is not the case.

Joy is brilliant at describing some of the difficulties that arise when 'helpful' friends try to intervene (and she oh-so-accurately points out how quickly people forget, having got married, what it's like to be single). She describes how people's constant attempts to 'pair off' all single people can lead to us feeling as if we're an embarrassment to have around - that instead of cheering us on in our singleness they just want to help us out of this unfortunate season.

One of the highlights of the book is the many in-depth conversations she has had with a great many single women. She travelled for these conversations, arranging round-table chats which led to a great deal of rich material, and she quotes the other women generously and at length. There is much wisdom shared from those chats.

There's just an awful lot of really helpful, clear truth in this book. She says that "God giving you a husband does not prove his goodness - marriage isn't even inherently good. But God is good, always. He is good in your singleness."

I cheered along as Joy lamented the waste which can so easily occur when single people live their life on hold, or treat their singleness like a waiting room - she uses the analogy of "an elevator ride" and declares this to be "a waste." "The problem with viewing singleness as a season is that we relegate our time here to something to be endured, not celebrated." YES!

Joy challenges the church's expectation of marriage in a way which is clear and timely without being grumpy (one might even suggest that the church is 'marriage obsessed' - that would make a good title for a chapter...) She challenges the common viewpoint that for single people life hasn't quite started yet, and says, with great perception, that "we've limited ourselves in what we choose to hono(u)r in the church."

She isn't afraid to tackle the big issues and the tough questions. She talks about loneliness, she talks about masturbation, she talks about childlessness, she talks about identity and self worth. I love her language of sexuality as something to be "stewarded" (rather than suppressed or avoided). I love how she tackles the 'gift' question.

There is a chapter called 'Don't spend your singleness preparing for marriage' (and I died a little inside at the 'spatula story') but nonetheless for me the book still felt like it was hoping for and heading for marriage. Perhaps it simply reflects where I am on my own journey (and perhaps this very thing would make it more appealing to some people) but I felt it might be of more interest to those still very much hoping and longing for marriage than for those who have embraced singleness for life. In the same vein I think it would be more for those who are 'never married but hoping to be' than for those who, for whatever reason, are 'single again'.

Overall I really would recommend this book (and believe me when I say that hardly ever happens with singleness books!) If you're reading it in the UK be prepared to do a bit of cross-cultural translation, and if you're not a young-ish 'single and hoping to be married' woman (I'm not sure how helpful guys would find it) be aware that it won't all resonate with you.

The thing I liked most (apart from how often it made me laugh out loud) was how much the whole book pointed to Jesus, and to living a holy live within and throughout our singleness. You can't ask for more than that.

When I'm holding a baby...

When I wrote 'Single Minded' there was a bit in it called '10 things single people wish married people wouldn't say.' In my head it was funny. Heck I still think it's funny. I mean, they're true too, every one of them, and they've all been said to me multiple times and I wish they hadn't - but you have to laugh, don't you?! Even if it's just so you don't cry. Anyway the problem is sometimes when people have read that list they've failed to engage their sense of humour sensors, and accused me of being angry and bitter and mean. I start this post by saying that because all of the same caveats apply. This is a post about '10 things not to say to a childless person who's holding a baby.' Again, I've had them all, and I wish I hadn't, and they hurt. I hope after reading the list people might think again before saying them. But at the same time please recognise this post as an attempt at gentle humour (well, that mixed with rabid sarcasm) rather than angry bitterness...

So, here (in no particular order) is my list:

1. Where did you get that from?
Just found it lying around outside. You're allowed to just keep them when that happens, right?

2. You should have said!
I just thought it would be more fun to have a baby in secret and produce it one day with no warning. Thanks for the implicit suggestion that I look like I could have just given birth though.

3. That was quick.
Yeah, in the 3 days since I last saw you I've found a husband, got pregnant, and given birth. What can I say, I'm an over-achiever.

4. Nice to see you getting in some practice.
Yes, it's about time I learnt not to dangle babies upside down from their feet. [Incidentally when I was a little girl I had a favourite baby doll. I was once walking along with my dad and he was carrying the doll by her foot. An elderly lady stopped to tell him off because he wasn't taking proper care of his baby!]

5. That'll be you one day.
THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO WAY YOU CAN KNOW THAT TO BE TRUE SO PLEASE PLEASE STOP TALKING OR I MAY BE FORCED TO SCREAM AND SOB IN A HYSTERICAL AND HORMONAL MANNER.

6. You should have your own before it's too late.
Yep, cheers for that, I'll stick it on the to-do list.

7. Is that yours? [from someone who knew me well!]
Yes, I've been keeping her in the garage till now but I thought it was about time I let her have some daylight.

8. Does the Bishop know about that? [I promise someone once asked me this!]
Sssshhhhh - I have a secret miracle baby that I keep in the attic. Please don't give my secret away.

9. I bet you're glad you can give him back.
When there's poo, snot or sick involved - too right. Then I'm laughing. But when he giggles, or grins, or snuggles up or falls asleep on my shoulder - well, then my heart breaks a little bit.

And my personal favourite. I should have £1 for every time it's been said:
10. Ooh, that suits you.
Yep, I know. I've always hoped I'd make a freaking brilliant mum. I absolutely love babies. This moment is simultaneously beautifully sweet and completely heartbreaking. Thanks for reminding me.

So there we go. That's my list. And I know I said I was aiming for humour but it turns out some of them aren't all that funny.

The thing is, please don't hear me wrong. I don't want to make people scared to ever open their mouths around me, or others in my situation. And I'm definitely not suggesting it's not ok to talk to me about this subject. I'm very happy to talk about my life - the fact that I'm single, the fact that I adore children, and would love to have them, but that it hasn't happened - and now won't happen. It's not that I can't or won't talk about it.

I guess what I struggle with is the crass and unthinking comments which can be so hurtful. It sometimes seems as if people haven't even considered for a moment that I'm a 39 year old childless woman, and that when I'm holding a baby, there might be a few different emotions going on. I know my situation is unique to me, and I don't claim to speak for anyone else. I can't imagine what it feels like to try for a baby and be unable to conceive, or to lose a child. I know lots of people don't want kids of their own. And maybe some people would hear the comments above and not mind.

And fortunately I do generally manage a reasonably gracious response when they come. Mostly. Sometimes. You know, now and then...

The thing is, there's been a choice to make. There always is, isn't there, and it's never easy. The choice is how I'll live, how I'll respond. I want to always make the Jesus-y choice. I want to choose the way of love and grace and hope and joy. Often that choice will be painful. Sometimes it would be less painful to make a different choice.

But, because I love children, and because I love my friends, and because I believe it's what Jesus would do, I choose to engage with little ones whenever I can - at church, with friends, randomly on the bus. I choose to volunteer with Safe Families for Children because they're flipping awesome and they are seeking every day to make life better and safer for little ones.

I know, of course, that none of the sentences I've mentioned above were ever deliberately meant to be hurtful. If you've said them to me - I forgive you! And obviously there will have been times when I will have said stupid and crass things, in a whole range of different areas. I'm sorry for all those times I've caused pain. Maybe we can all just aim for a bit more empathy?

Here's a (careful and anonymous!) photo of the tiny person I'm currently looking after from time to time with Safe Families. She's a precious, wonderful joy.

beLOVED

Hmm. Where to start with this post?! Well, I guess the beginning is as good a place as any, so grab a drink and settle in. This could be a long one...

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while, or read my blog, or heard me speak on singleness, will know some of this story - so bear with...

8 years ago I first spoke about singleness, at the New Wine North summer event in Newark. Since then God has taken me on an incredible journey in this whole area, and I've been privileged to travel all over the UK and the world speaking on singleness, and also to have my book Single Minded published: https://wordery.com/single-minded-kate-wharton-9780857214300?cTrk=NjY5NjkzMTJ8NTllYTYxMDc3ZThiZToxOjI6NTllYTYwZmYzNTgxMzkuODU4MzUwMzg6MGM3MWY4NTE%3D

It has been a huge learning curve. It has been my privilege to meet many single people, and to hear their stories, and to share together with them some of the ups and downs of this journey. It has also been great to be invited to share with a number of churches and colleges, and to help them to think about how they can be places of genuine welcome and community.

Inevitably, and wonderfully, over that time God has also been speaking to me about my own life and walk with him. I have learnt SO MUCH about myself and about God! Some of that journey is explored in Chapter 7 of the book (incidentally, I always know whether or not someone is telling the truth about having read my book, since I share so personally in Chapter 7 - so if they don't know that part of my story, they haven't really read it!)

In that chapter I shared my belief that God was calling me to remain single, and that I had decided to make a choice to embrace that calling and live that way.

But since then, there's more...!

A couple of years ago I began to sense that God was calling me to do something to publicly mark that calling and decision. I had no idea how to do that, or if it was even a thing! I began to explore a bit, and discovered that there was a fact a way to do this, a community to join as someone who had chosen to remain single for life. The problem was that while that particular community may be a great choice for many people, it simply wasn't the right one for me. It didn't seem to reflect my personality, my story, my churchmanship, my journey.

After a bit of time spent praying and wondering and pondering, I went to talk to my Bishop, who fortunately is all sorts of wise. He said that if the existing way to do this wasn't right for me, then I should just make up my own way! So I did, with his help, and the help of my closest friends.

So it was that in Sept 2015 12 of us gathered together in the Bishop's chapel as I made what if I was becoming a nun (which I REALLY am not!) I might have called 'novitiate vows'. I made a vow, they prayed for me, we sang, we shared communion. It was wonderful.

And then I spent the next 2 years seeking God for what this might look like going forward. Had I really heard him right? Was this a bonkers idea born out of too much cheese one night - or was it really a calling from the Lord, a chance to serve him with my whole heart and soul in a new way, to explore a vcry particular vocation?

Well, 2 years has passed, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't the cheese. I've actually never wavered from my conviction that this calling is from the Lord. There have been times when I've felt awed by the hugeness of it all, and what it represents. And I suspect I will always get a bit teary from time to time around babies. I will always need my people - my closest friends, who are family to me, who 'get' me and are there for me through it all.

I'm incredibly grateful to God for this adventure we're on together. I have no idea where this will lead or what it will look like in 2 more years, or 5, or 10. But I do know that this is what I need to do, now, before God.

So it is that at the end of November I will gather in Liverpool Cathedral, with some friends and family, to make the equivalent of 'life vows'. I am writing the service myself, to express who I am, and what this journey has looked like for me. 

Some of you know this, as you have walked the journey with me. I am more grateful to you than I can express, most especially those of you who were there in Sept 2015. Some of you will be there to celebrate with me in November (I can't wait!). Some of you can't be there, and I will miss you.

It's a source of huge sadness to me that I can't invite all of you wonderful people out there. I am blessed with so many amazing friends, and I thank God for you all - but for you all to be there I'd need the whole Cathedral, not just the Lady Chapel! (Not to mention that I'd have to re-mortgage the vicarage to pay for the lunch).

So, if I haven't invited you, I'm sorry - I hope you will still pray for me as I step out into this new thing with God.

I hope that what I've written makes sense. Lots of people, when I've told them, have done a goldfish impression for a while and then said "gosh - I've never heard of that before!" Well no, neither had I!

I hope Alan Scott will forgive me for quoting a sentence that I heard him say at New Wine this summer - "Who knows what Jesus will do next? He's desperately kind and wonderfully good." Oh yes! I'm so excited for what lies ahead...

Oh, and in case you're wondering about the title of this post, well, it's the name I have decided to give to this whole 'thing' that I'm doing. (Good job, too - its working title among my friends was 'The Thing' for months!). It comes from a phrase I heard Anne Maclaurin say years ago - "God calls you beloved and he says be loved."

So my 'Thing' in November is called the beLOVED ceremony (with thanks to Laura Ferguson for her design skills).

Just one...?

I've just got back from a short break in Dublin. I'd never been, and it turns out Dublin is a beautiful, fabulous city. You may have already known that! But if you didn't, I'm telling you - you need to go! I visited St. Patrick's and Christ Church Cathedrals, Dublinia, the GPO and the Witness History, Dublin Castle, did a walking tour, the Literary Pub Crawl, the 1916 'Beyond the Barricades' bus experience, went to Once at the theatre, did a tasting tour at the Irish Whiskey Museum, saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College and travelled all over the place on the open top tourist bus. I also ate a lot of food and drank a lot of beer! All in all, it was a very splendid holiday. I could have lived with the sun shining a bit more, but that's my only real complaint...!

It was a fairly last minute decision to go to Dublin. I went to Ljubljana for a week in May with a friend (also a gorgeous and wonderful city!), and am lucky enough to have a sabbatical from mid-October, some of which I'll be spending in the US. With all that going on, I hadn't really planned in much other time away - but it turns out that almost a whole year with only 1 week of actual holiday isn't really enough! So, to stop myself from losing the plot entirely I squeezed in this almost-a-week away.

I have a lovely friend with whom I go on holiday fairly often - generally once a year for the past several years. We like pretty much the same things, holiday-wise, so it works well, and we've got a good system going now! I also occasionally go away with my best friend's family, or I go to stay with friends around the country. That's all good.

There are times, however, when I want to go away, but either there's no one available to go away with, or we don't want to go to the same place, or we're not free at the same time, or whatever. It's the single person's holiday curse! In the not-at-all scientific survey I did of some single friends while I was writing my book, I asked them to rate various 'issues' faced by single people. 'Lack of touch' came out at the top of the list of things people struggled with, and 'holidays' came in second.

Whenever I share this list with groups of people when I'm speaking about singleness, married people are generally surprised by holidays being on the list, and certainly it isn't usually something they would guess. (The single people, of course, TOTALLY get it!).

It's a dilemma, especially for me as an extrovert. When I told some people that I was going away on my own, they sort of went quiet, and looked at me in that certain special way and asked "er, are you going to be... ok?" I tended to grin and cheerfully announce "well, there's only one way to find out...!"

I have been away on my own before, for a couple of days to London, and for a few days to Morpeth. However this time was my first holiday "abroad" (I know, it's Dublin not the Far East - but still!). It was only for 5 days and 4 nights, but that's a long time to not know whether I'd have any sort of meaningful conversation with another human person!

Anyway, the good news is that it was fabulous, almost all of the time. It helped that the Olympics was on, so when I got back to my hotel room each evening I could catch up on the day's events. It helped that the hotel had wifi so that I could spend time on social media when I was there - in fact that and a central location were my only 2 real requirements hotel-wise.

Often when I speak about singleness I have conversations with people who are too scared to go on holiday on their own. Sometimes they're too scared to go out for a meal or to the cinema or theatre on their own. I get that, I really do. But the thing is this - how much are you willing to miss out on? All those places you won't have visited, all those restaurants you won't have eaten in, all those films and plays and shows you won't have seen. So be brave! If I can do it, you can (and actually if you're more of an introvert than me, you might jump at the chance!).

So below (in no particular order) I offer you a few plus points of holidaying alone, a few suggestions of things which might help, as well as a few light-hearted grumbles and warnings...

• The first and most obvious positive is that you get to make all the decisions! Where to go, what to do, what time to eat, what time to sleep, etc etc. You can entirely please yourself, and it's marvellous!
• There is, though, a direct flipside to this, which is - you have to make all the decisions! Sometimes it would be nice to just have someone else make a suggestion, or a decision.
• Do take a book with you everywhere you go. It is a million times easier to sit in a cafe, restaurant, pub or bar while reading, than simply doing nothing. I tend to take my tablet and then I can read the newspaper or my kindle app or whatever. Without that I would get bored more quickly and also feel more awkward.
• Vary the things you do each day between things where you're on your own, or things where you'll be mixing with other people. I make a bit of a plan each evening about what I might do the next day.
• Sign up for some trips, or tours, where you'll mix with other people. All the tours I've ever done on holidays have included some people travelling alone. It's great, as you get to spend a bit of time within a group, and to share the experience with others. The walking tours and literary tours I did in Dublin were great for this, and on the literary pub crawl in particular I got chatting to some other girls travelling alone or in pairs.
• One annoying thing is there's no one else with you, so they can't go and reserve a table while you order or pay. The number of times I've missed out on a cafe table because someone behind me in the queue has had a friend to go and bagsy a table for them...!
• If you're going to the theatre and there's an interval, my suggestion is to buy a programme. I know they're ridiculously overpriced and are 80% adverts, but it really helps in the interval to have something to do! I never quite feel I can get out my book, but flicking through a programme helps me to feel less of a spare part!
• The last night was tricky. It was a Friday and I simply hadn't bargained for how busy everywhere would be. I wanted to find a pub with traditional music but everywhere was rammed. I wandered around for ages getting more and more hungry (hangry, if I'm totally honest!). I ended up in one pub where there were no tables, but you could sit at the bar and order snacks. I did so, and for 15 minutes was ignored by the bar and waiting staff. RUDE! I left...
• Do be brave - do the things you feel like doing, and don't worry about what anyone else thinks! I know it's a cliche to say you'll never have to see these people again - but it's a cliche because it's true! This was especially true for me on the last night. After my slightly trying evening, when I eventually did find a pub to eat in, I wanted a last-night treat. I ordered the special - lobster salad. The waiter genuinely paused, looked me up and down, and said "for one?" I thought "how many do you flipping well think it's for?" It's not as if it was a sharing platter - it was a single meal, for one, and I was on my own. So what if it was a fancy meal - I fancied it! I love lobster, I was near the coast, the seafood was amazing. Out loud, I said "yes, please." In my head, I said "DO AS I ASK AND BRING ME A LOBSTER AT ONCE, MY MAN." 
• In a similar vein, eat ice cream, or chips, or order Prosecco, or whatever the heck you feel like doing, regardless of whether you're on your own. Why shouldn't you?!
• The one thing that did drive me a bit mad while I was in Dublin, and prompted me to start mulling over this blog post, and was the inspiration for the title, was the number of times I went in somewhere and was asked "just one...?" Restaurants, cafes, bars, even, bizarrely, a bus... I have reached the point where I have no shame about this. Yes, I am only one, and I may well occupy a table that could take 2 or even 4. So what? I will spend money that is as good as theirs - and if you'd seen me eat, you'd realise I may even spend as much as they would! If people are rude about this, I leave. Whatevs. If they're friendly and accommodating, it scores them many points - I will return. I'm not deliberately difficult - if I start off at a big table and a smaller one becomes available I'll happily move, but I have as much right as anyone else to a table in the first place!
• I was on the open-topped bus one time and someone on their own got up to get off. The driver (who fancied himself as a bit of a "comedian" started to chat (into the mic which the whole bus could hear) - "where's the rest of your gang then? What - you're on your own? Billy-no-mates are you?" How flipping cheeky is that? When I got off I raced down the aisle and straight off, because if he'd said something like that to me then I can't guarantee I'd have been polite!
• I wonder what's in people's heads, sometimes, with this "just one...?" business. Is it that they could never conceive of going out, or away, on their own? Is it that they think you must have temporarily mislaid your partner or friend, and they're pointing it out in case you go "oh flip, I knew I'd forgotten something!" I mean, I realise it could just be a request for information - "what is the size of your party so that I know what facilities you require?" - but 9 times out of 10 it doesn't feel like that. And the question "table for one?" is perfectly reasonable, and generally I say it myself as I walk in. But it's the "*just...*?" that gets me - the unspoken feeling of "good gracious what on earth is wrong with you?" But maybe I'm just over sensitive...

Anyway, what about you? I'd love to hear. Do you agree, or disagree? Have you holidayed alone? How did it go? Or would you like to but have never quite had the nerve? Do share your thoughts and stories.

And to end, the final downside of holidaying alone - you end up with lots of photos of where you've been, but hardly any of you! (I know, I know, selfies, but I feel so daft!). And so here is the only photographic evidence I have that I was actually in Dublin at all - from the Irish Whiskey Museum, no less!

Some thoughts about mothering... and daffodils...

Hmm. Even as I begin this post it's with some trepidation. Is it a good idea to explore the area of mothering, two days after Mothering Sunday (which is of course what has prompted these reflections?) Will I offend or upset someone? Will I get myself in a tizz? Well, I hope not, but there are so many thoughts flying around my head that I really need to just get them out there!

Before the serious stuff begins though, I have to confess that the reason I've used the word 'mothering' in the title and in the first paragraph is because I'm still not 100% sure where the apostrophe is meant to go in 'Mothers Day'. The pedant in me (which is really just all of me) wants to put it after the 's' of course - surely it's a day for all mothers, not just one? But many websites inform me that it should be before the 's' as the idea is that, for each individual, it really is a day just for their own mother. But is that just in America? I have no idea. I shall stick with Mothering Sunday!

And before I really let rip with my musings, a caveat is required. I've blogged before (http://katewharton.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/probably-my-least-favourite-phrase-in.html) about how I can't stand the phrase "I know exactly how you feel" and yet there's a risk in what I'm writing today that some people will think I'm saying just that. I assure you that I'm not. I'm simply sharing how this issue feels for me, at this moment. I'm about to turn 36, I'm single, and likely to stay that way, and I don't have kids. I'm going to say a bit about how that feels for me. I obviously have no idea how it feels for any other single person.

I also very clearly have no idea how this issue feels for people who are married but for whatever reason can't or don't have children. I have some good friends in that position and I weep for some of the terrible things that 'well meaning' people have said to them. I have no idea what it must feel like to be them.

So, all scenes set and all caveats laid out, here goes...

When I was a little girl, I was quite certain that when I grew up I would get married and have children. It was just obvious - why wouldn't I? I had no concept that for some people this just wasn't the way life worked out. I was an only child and I'd always longed for a sister - I pestered my poor parents to death about it! I was very clear that I wanted to have 3 daughters, and at any given point I could have told you what their names would be (though they often changed!).

Anyway, time passed, and I didn't get married, and I didn't have children. And now I'm nearly 36. Which, while not yet 'too late', is nevertheless close enough to focus the mind somewhat. And anyway over the last few years a lot of things have changed for me in terms of how I think about my own singleness, and some of the choices I've made for the future (you can read more about that in Chapter 7 of Single Minded). Suffice it to say though, that in as much as I can be sure of anything, I don't think I will get married, and I don't think I will have children.

When I tell people that (actually it's generally when I tell other single people) they say something along the lines of "oh aren't you lucky that God has taken away your desire to get married and have children". Now I have to tell you that he hasn't done anything of the sort! For all sorts of reasons, that I won't go into in this post, I think that's where I currently am. But it doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wish things might have been different, and wonder what my life might have been like if it had worked out the way I expected it to when I was a little girl.

I love children - I mean I really am completely daft about them. I love cooing over tiny babies, and munching and scrunching their chubby little cheeks. I love playing silly games and doing silly dances with toddlers. I love the wonderful conversations you can have with little kids - one minute totally serious, the next fabulously daft, the next utterly surreal. I love the way kids look at the world, full of wonder and joy and exuberance. I love how much things matter to them. I love how independent and feisty and funny and playful and boisterous they can be. Not everyone does love kids. Even some people who have kids only love their own, not other people's!

I'm good with kids, too, really good. I get them, I can talk to them, I can play with them, and they like me. Not everyone's good with kids, and certainly not all vicars - that much was obvious at college! I love toddler groups and school assemblies and kids' church. I love messy crafts and sing songs and story time.

I love my friends' kids. I have 3 Godchildren and being part of their lives (and their siblings') is one of the greatest joys and privileges of my life. I love watching them grow up. I love spending time with them. I love putting them to bed and reading stories and playing games and doing the school pick up and wiping away tears and changing nappies and having hugs. I love being given hand made cards and pictures and letters.

I also love spending time with other friends' kids who are older, and who (hopefully!) see me as a friendly-and-wise-but-non-parental adult they can talk to.

Sometimes, spending so much time around kids, and knowing I won't have my own, really, really hurts. And it's getting harder. (It's probably hormones - goodness knows what will happen when I turn 40!). Sometimes it seems as though it actually, physically hurts. I can be reduced to tears by something cute a child says, or by a hug. "I love you Aunty Kate" gets me every time, obviously! The other day I burst into tears in the supermarket watching a wide eyed little boy choose a toy with his pocket money. It was the sense of excitement mixed with concentration, the choice of that toy being the most important thing in the world to him at that moment...

So I'm an emotional wreck sometimes (if you know me well you're now saying "tell us something we don't know"!), but there are good moments too. What joy I have knowing so many amazing small people, and being part of their lives. What a privilege to know that I will always be a part of their lives. (I don't have siblings, so no nieces and nephews - so I tell my Godchildren they'll have to care for me in my dotage as well as their parents!).

Don't worry though, I'm not always an emotional wreck - sometimes it's just lots of fun, and then I go home and leave their parents to do the messy, boring stuff. I'm not stupid!!

It might be less painful if I engaged less with kids. Maybe that's what some people choose to do. If I didn't babysit, or join family teatimes and bathtimes, or help with the toddler group. Maybe then I'd be reminded less often of what I don't have. But I don't want to do that, because then I'd miss out on so much. I think maybe the kids would miss out too.

Mothering Sunday can be a tough day for lots of people for lots of reasons, I know that. I'm well aware that what I'm describing here is only one of those reasons. In my church we don't give out daffodils to mums on Mothering Sunday. Instead we do 'something' else - maybe we give everyone chocolates, or we all make something, or there are flowers, but they're for everyone to take if they want them. We try to affirm mums but to be sensitive to anyone who's finding it tough. I know lots of places do the daffodil thing really well but I've never quite got over one year (in a different church) when all the kids had given daffodils to their mums, and sat back down. One mum looked over at me, poked her daughter, and said in a stage whisper "get some for Kate, she hasn't got anyone to give her any." I could have wept, though of course I accepted them with thanks.

Maybe you think I was being unreasonable or over sensitive. Actually I don't mind at all if all the mums get given daffodils, or if all the women get daffodils. And I do love getting flowers! But I don't want pity daffodils, "oh dear she's all sad and alone we'd better give her some" daffodils. I'm sure lots of people feel differently, but there we are.

So that's what I've been reflecting on this Mothering Sunday. I'm so, so glad I get to 'mother' in a small way, as a Godmother. I pray for myself, that I'll stay soft-hearted around kids (even if it means I cry a lot!). I pray for others for whom this is tough. I thank God for the joy of small people. I thank Jesus that he understands. I might go and buy myself some daffodils...

Here's a picture one of my lovely Goddaughters drew of me. What's not to love?!

... and when they don't work quite so well...

Earlier in the week I blogged a little excerpt from my book 'Single Minded' about the ways in which friendships between single and married people can work really well, and bless all parties involved. The list was based on questionnaire responses from all the single people that were kind enough to share their thoughts with me as I wrote the book.

Today I want to share the flip side of that list - some of their thoughts as to when things don't work so well, and some of the things which their lovely married friends might (entirely unwittingly I'm sure!) do or say which might be less well received... The lists don't claim to speak for all people, of course - that would be impossible. If you're single there will be some things that you'll instantly recognise and empathise with and others that you'll totally disagree with - feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below.

I hope the lists are helpful. They're not meant to be rude or arrogant or complaining, but simply observations and sharing some thoughts. Hopefully we can all learn a bit more about how to get on with each other, and love and support one another, as a result.

Don't feel too got at if you're married - the next blog post will be your thoughts (or at least the thoughts of those of you I asked to share with me as I was writing!).

So, here goes -

• When they try to matchmake me without my permission.
• When they act as a couple in ways which feel excluding and uncomfortable (this may be overt shows of affection, or it may be having big arguments).
• When they don't really understand what my life is like.
• When I have to always fit in round them, and whenever we meet it has to be on their terms.
• When they use me as a babysitting service.
• When they only invite me round at certain times but save the 'special times' like Saturday nights for their married friends.
• When they talk non-stop about their children.
• When they moan about their children without realising that I would love to have what they have.
• When friends who have been very close while they were single disappear when they get married and don't keep in touch.
• When they assume that because I don't have children I don't want to be included in their family events.
• When they assume that I am self-sufficient and capable all of the time and don't need any help or support.
• When they ditch me during times of stress in their lives because they turn instead to their family (understandably), and I feel shut out.
• When they don't ever invite me to join them for holidays.

I couldn't very well use a 'negative example' photo here, so instead here's another great example of friendship at its best - vegging on the sofa after a lovely Christmas Day with friends.

Single/married friendships - when they work well...

Recently I blogged some of my 'Things single people wish married people wouldn't say' - there were lots of comments! I think some of the feedback provided me with at least another 10 (maybe for the next book...!). In 'Single Minded' I also included a few other lists, and I thought I'd also share those here. The first is a compilation of the things single people said in my questionnaire, about the ways in which their married friends are fabulous - some of the things which have really worked well in those relationships.

So here's the list, with a huge shout of thanks to all you wonderful married people who are lovely friends -

• When they invite me to be part of their family, including me in everyday events as well as special occasions, making me feel welcome in their homes, allowing me access to their children's lives.
• When they offer me practical help with things that are difficult to do by myself, e.g. house, garden, and car maintenance.
• When they treat me as an equal friend, rather than as someone in a lesser state than them to be pitied and looked after.
• When they look out for me to make sure that I'm safe and can get home late at night.
•  When they don't treat my singleness as an unmentionable issue, but ask me how I feel about it and if I'm ok with it (but at the same time don't make it the only thing we ever talk about!).
• When they invite me round on my own, rather than feeling that they also need someone else there to make up the numbers so we're all couples.
• When they make me feel welcome and at ease in their home and not like I'm in the way or intruding.
• When they make sure I'm not alone at significant times like birthdays, Christmas, Easter and New Year's Eve.
• When they're willing to listen and act as a sounding board when I've got big decisions to make.
• When they invite me to eat with them, both on special occasions and also on ordinary days.
• When I'm able to sometimes spend time with just one of them on their own rather than always being part of a three.
• When they're open and honest and talk about their marriage in a balanced way.
• When they avoid being overly physically intimate when I'm there so that I don't feel awkward.
• When they pray for me and with me, and ask what I'd like them to pray for rather than assuming they know.
• When they invite me to go on holidays with them.
• When they give me hugs (and allow their children to do the same!).

I love these! What a great picture of community, of family in the best sense of the word. What great exampled of flourishing, life-giving relationships where everyone involved benefits.

I am SO grateful to have great friendships with some amazingly wonderful married friends who just 'get it' (and if they don't, say so, and say sorry, when necessary!). Some are my age, some are older; some have kids, some don't. In every case I think (I hope!) every party involved benefits from the friendship.

I hope if you're single you can identify some of these statements above in your friendships with married people (and maybe add some more to the list?). I hope if you're married you've done some of the stuff above - if not, why not pick one and go for it?!

Next time we might go for the negative list, but I thought we'd start on the plus side...!

And by way of evidence, here's a photo of one of my most favourite groups of people in the whole wide world, spoiling me on my birthday last year :-)

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10 things single people wish married people wouldn't say... (Part 1)

In my book Single Minded (published last June by Monarch - still available in all good bookshops etc etc!), I decided to write a list of things single people wish married people wouldn't say. It was borne out of experience - all the things on the list are actual things which actual people have actually said to me (and there are some that I've heard many times!). If you're single I bet you've heard a fair few of them yourself (and no doubt a few other corkers too!). If you're married then the chances are you've said one or two of them in your time! (If you can recall saying them to me, then it's probably you I'm quoting ;-) ).

The list is written, and I hope will also be read, in good humour, and with a smile. (I wrote on this same subject over on the wonderful www.threadsuk.com page and some people there seemed to have had a sense of humour bypass about the whole thing...). I am making a serious-ish point in a light hearted way. It's ok to laugh (in fact, please do). However, the sentiment that, as single people, we would rather not hear these things, is true. Please don't read it as a bitter and twisted rant though - it is anything but! As I hope is clear, from here, and from the book, and elsewhere, I love my married friends very much and mostly they're wonderful and supportive and fabulous. Obviously they sometimes say fabulously inappropriate things about my singleness (as I have no doubt I do too, about all sorts of things that I know nothing about and misjudge horribly!). Sometimes the comments were made not by friends, but by random strangers, which makes them a little harder to swallow, as that person hasn't yet earnt the right to be daft! But hey ho - we've all been there!

So, here is Part 1 - the first 5 things on the list, as I describe them in the book. If you like them, please let me know. If they've been said to you, do share (kindly and anonymously, please!). If you want to take issue with any of them, feel free - but again, do remember the spirit of the thing! In the book I also give married people a chance to say the things they'd like to say to the singles, so it's all fair!

1. You're so lovely, why are you still single?

This is quite a favourite, it seems, as I have lost count of the number of people who have said it to me, or about others in my hearing. On the face of it you might wonder what’s wrong with it – surely it’s meant as a compliment? Well, yes, I’m sure that it is meant as a compliment. The problem is that when that sentence is spoken, this is what we hear – “You seem lovely, but there must be something wrong with you, otherwise you’d be married. You can’t be quite as lovely as all the lovely married people around you. If you were only a bit more lovely, you’d be married in no time.” I know, I know, that’s not what you meant at all – but unfortunately that is what we heard.

2. Don't worry, you're still so young.

This is another tricky one because on the face of it it’s complimentary, and it seems to offer consolation and hope. But to be brutally honest, when you say this sentence I simply cannot hear you over the sound of my biological clock ticking. I have known people aged 16 and aged 60 who felt exactly the same about their desire to be married (and of course I have also known people at both of those ages, and everywhere in between, who had no desire whatsoever to be married). At the moment when singleness feels like a struggle, whatever age you are, you don’t ever feel young enough to not worry about it!

3. Do you have a family?

I wish I had a pat reply to this question which worked every time but sadly, for some reason, no matter how many times I get asked it, I still stumble over my response. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with the questions ‘are you married?’ or ‘have you got children?’ – those are questions seeking information which are perfectly valid in a conversation, and to which I’m quite happy to reply. But the question above isn’t the same as those questions. The question above means ‘are you married with children?’ but that isn’t what it asks, and so we find ourselves thrown by it. I find it hard to answer because the answer is yes, I do have a family, I have parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. But I know that’s not what you’re really asking. If I reply in that way you might think I’m being deliberately obtuse and that’s not what I want to do. And yet I don’t want to say ‘no’ because that isn’t the right answer to the question you have asked, even if it is the right answer to the question that you meant. Can you see why it’s confusing?!

4. If you get your relationship with God sorted, then he'll send you a spouse.

This is clearly nonsense! What more needs to be said...?! So presumably absolutely every married Christian person has a perfectly healthy, mature relationship with God then, do they? No, that’s what I thought...

5. I was single till the age of X so I know exactly how you feel.

I’m sorry, but you simply don’t. It’s obviously true that while not everyone is married at some point in their lives, everyone is single at some point. But you don’t know how I feel. You may of course be able to remember how being single felt for you, at that time, but that is not the same as how it feels for me, now. In the same way, I don’t know how anyone else feels – even another 34 year old single female vicar. (This doesn’t mean that you can’t empathise, or sympathise, or be involved in my life – of course it doesn’t! But you really don’t know how I feel!)

 Part 2 will follow soon...