I know this is gonna sound… really bad. (Or maybe it won't to some people, I just hope so). My kids are grown, finally. Almost. One's still at uni, but you know, basically out of the house. And my parents, bless 'em, they're getting older and a little… set in their ways. More than ever. They’re still talking about this whole arranged marriage thing for my youngest daughter, like it’s a done deal. And I just sit there and nod and make tea because what else am I gonna do? But inside, I’m screaming. Not for her, not really, I mean, she can do what she wants, but for ME. Because for like, YEARS now, since before the kids even started school, I’ve been thinking… this whole idea of one person for your WHOLE life? It’s just… not how we’re built, is it? Like, for humans. For us. We live so much longer now, right? And we change. I’ve changed so much from the girl who got married. (And yeah, mine was kinda arranged too, not like full on arranged but definitely pushed hard by my family and his.) And he’s changed too. We’re practically different people. We’re roommates, really. Good ones, mostly. We get along. But the idea that we should pretend to be some kind of… soulmates forever? It just feels… pretend. Like an act. And I look at my daughter and I think, why would I want that for her? Why would I want to pretend for the rest of her life that one person is enough, when I know, deep down, it’s not really how it works for most of us, anyway. We just keep up appearances because it’s what we’re TOLD to do. I spend so much time alone now, in this big quiet house. The quiet used to drive me crazy, now it’s like my only friend. I think about things. All the things I never did. All the different people I could have been, or still could be. And it’s not about cheating or anything like that, not really. It’s more about… connection. Different kinds of connection. Why does it have to be ONE person, all in? For everything? It just doesn’t make sense to me anymore. And if I said that out loud to anyone I know, they’d probably think I’d gone completely mad. Or worse. (They’d definitely think I’d gone mad.) But I just wonder if anyone else out there feels this way. Like we’re just doing this because it’s tradition, not because it actually makes us happy. And I feel guilty even typing it. So, so guilty. But I needed to say it. To someone. Anyone.