My Cousin's Vegas Bachelorette Party Made Me Question My Life


bachelorette party girls drinking partying
Being the only single -- and oldest -- woman at a fancy bachelorette bash freaked me out.

As I boarded the plane to Las Vegas, I vowed to keep the judgment to a minimum and the laughter to a maximum. I can endure anything for one weekend, I reasoned, taking comfort in the thought that there was no way my cousin’s bachelorette weekend could be as bad as the one in the film "Bridesmaids," as long as I refrained from mixing pills and booze. I reminded myself why I was there: to celebrate the love in my cousin’s life.

I took an aisle seat next to one of the other bridesmaids, who looked remarkably like Heidi Montag, minus the size H breasts.


"So, are you dating anyone?" she asked, first thing after hello.

“Not at the moment,” I replied.

End of conversation.

As we arrived at the hotel—I swear I’ve never seen so many lightbulbs in my life—my exchanges with the other girls, who ranged in age from 25 to 30, went exactly the same way. All seven of them were married or engaged. When they found out I wasn’t even close to walking down the aisle, they lost interest in me, as if my singlehood was a disease they might catch. The Frisky: 10 Celebrity Couples Who Had Short Engagements

Months ago, when my 26-year-old cousin asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, my immediate response was, “I’d be honored.” But the truth was I didn’t entirely feel that way. We’re not close, I wouldn’t even call us friends, but she’s my cousin and I remember the day when she was born. We’ve spent every Thanksgiving together for the last 25 years. I am thrilled that she has met the man she wants to marry. We’re family and I am invested, as one of the less crazy members of our large clan, in keeping conflict and drama to a minimum. This includes agreeing to wear a fluffy burgundy bridesmaid dress and attending a practically unaffordable bachelorette weekend in Vegas.

At 34 years old, I like the woman that I’ve become. Without being defined by a husband or kids, I’ve worked hard to develop my identity as a person. I’ve found career success. I’m not rich by any means, but I support myself doing something I love, which is satisfying. I have an active social life. I volunteer regularly. My life is full even though I haven’t found the right person to share it with yet. That doesn’t make me feel like any less of a success as a woman. I don’t know if I even intend to get married as I’ve come to I question the institution and all the hoopla that surrounds it. I’m still undecided about having kids. But I definitely believe in love. The Frisky: Girl Talk: Why Being Drunk Is A Feminist Issue

This article was originally published at . Reprinted with permission.