Before I Do

Chapter 1: Tactless Relatives Must Die

"My daughter is pregnant," my aunt says. "We're having a big wedding!"

My mind goes blank. I feel like my brain stopped working or something. I know a trap when I sniff one but here I am, unable to react like a normal human being during the Christmas luncheon at my grandmother's place.

"Kit, you'll be Jill's maid of honor, yes?" my aunt is saying now. "We can have the wedding two months from now! Maybe on Valentine's Day so it's sweeter? You help Jill prepare okay?"

I feel my mouth twitch, but nothing came out. I keep my resting bitch face as calm as I could while Aunt Hilda blabs about the high profile friends she thinks she has.

Everyone starts throwing awkward glances the minute she mentions getting a prominent drug lord as a godfather. My aunt takes a sip of her lukewarm iced tea before firing a cheap shot at me.

"How about you and Johnny? When are you having a baby?" she goes on. "Maybe you have fertility problems."

I feel all eyes turn my way. My mouth drops first. My blood starts boiling next. I want to be the bitchy smart ass who had been banned from these family reunions many times in the past.

Have you heard of condoms, Auntie? I say in my head. They are just fabulous! And they're cheap too compared to an early and obviously unplanned pregnancy.

Johnny knows how to use a condom, that's why! I continue to shout at her in my head. If you want, I can ask him to teach your daughter's ugly boyfriend...oh wait, too late for that now.

But no. I promised to be the reformed bad girl this time. Instead of stabbing her with my fork, I respond with a simple nod. Instead of spewing word vomit, I grit my teeth and say, "Yes, no baby yet."

It takes so much energy to keep myself from throwing nasty comebacks. I find it absolutely amazing how my Aunt Hilda can spend all her time social-climbing and she still doesn't know a thing about class.

How can she spend so much time rubbing elbows with her allegedly rich friends but she still rubs people the wrong way? Or maybe, she's rubbing a different body part.

My cousin Jill's unplanned pregnancy came as a surprise, one that I would have let pass if not for her mother's very tactless comment.

When did being single and childless at 27 become synonymous with impotence? I heard many horror stories from single girlfriends who continue to be humiliated at family gatherings. You hear one, you hear them all. Why is it suddenly a crime to not be married in your late 20s?

I vowed that I will never be ridiculed for my choice to delay marriage for as long as I can. So I arm myself with a truckload of smart retorts, few of which explains my MIAs (missing in action).

But this is the first time, at least to me, that an unmarried woman's child-bearing ability was attacked on a special non-working holiday. And out of all the single, strong and stubborn women I know, it happened to me.

I walk to the bar and look for something stronger than beer to calm me down. I find some gin, pour myself a glass and sip my anger away. In an alternate universe, I take out my gun and shoot Jill, who is grinning at me from the other side of the room.

#

"Fuck them," my good friend Rose screams over the phone. "Let me repeat. Fuck them!"

I spent the past fifteen minutes in die-hard monologue reenacting the scene at my family luncheon earlier today. As soon as I got back to my box-type studio in Ortigas, I called Rose and downloaded all my angst.

Rose loves her expletives, which paved the way for our friendship to grow a few years after college. She's one of those women who can compete in Miss Universe pageant. Rose has the looks. Unfortunately, she doesn't have the patience. She works in public relations instead.

"So they're basically saying that you must have kids when you're, like, in your late, late twenties? And if you don't, then there's something wrong with your health? What if we're just busy with our careers? Fuck them," Rose continues to recite her Thesaurus of carefully chosen invective. We're both 27 years old.

Is it really just Aunt Hilda's lack of good breeding or are relatives now allowed to question your marital and maternal choices when you hit your late twenties? Apparently, when your friends start posting wedding photos on Facebook, even the most cynic of women could end up doing one of the following:

a. Drop hints to your boyfriend about the possibility of *gulp* marriage.

b. Follow up with not-so-subtle hints about having babies someday, if not soon. How about nine months from now? Talk about meeting a deadline, especially if you're one of those paranoid women whose biological clocks tick a little louder than normal.

c. Move to another country, preferably one with a different timezone so you can effortlessly avoid calls from your parents who keep throwing tip-offs about enjoying their grand kids while they're still young.

d. Seriously consider the idea of social media blackout because you just can't look at another baby #selfie posted by your high school seatmate. Argh!

There was a time when I came too close to packing my bags and moving to another country, one where I can start a brand new life away from pesky relatives. Unfortunately, I am too chicken to move too far from comfort. I moved out instead.

Besides, is there a country where women are not bombarded with marital inquiries? I can take a hint, sure. What really ticks me off is that these once personal inquiries are not limited to family anymore.

These days, even your neighbor's guest can casually ask about your marital status. But that's not all. They will also ungraciously leave you with unsolicited advice about getting married soon.

How did we get this way? When did privacy become a novelty? But who could blame them really? You see, I am not actually single.

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"Before I Do" is an ongoing romance series on Radish!

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"What Am I To You" is the prequel to "Before I Do." Head to Bookbed.org to read it!