It is universally known that a woman is in want
Of a husband to elevate status,
To bring about honour and maybe a child.
If singled out for too long,
She is officially ‘on the shelf’,
A spinster in the making, and she’d better
Get herself a cat and needlepoint
To occupy her time, yes, she must,
Find herself a gentleman, however it is done.
Sorry, but I’m still harping on about Brridgerton and all of the other period dramas that I’ve watched over the Christmas break. It’s probably becoming obvious that I’ve watched too many of them, and because I’m not very good at thinking for myself I tend to slip into their way of thinking quite easily.
I think that, in part, it’s because I want to belong to that time, but the thing that I love the most is the matching that went on. A woman would simply ‘come out’ and then she would have a dance with a man and then it was decided that they would marry and by Saturday the deal was done.
I, on the other hand, have been single for way too long. Of course, I have a child so I would be a ruined woman and couldn’t expect to find a good man, but I can overlook that when I imagine my own life in Regency England.
I do find that I like to draw comparisons between the times though. I mean, is Tinder all that different to the way that society operated back then? And, I don’t see myself as a natural beauty so my photo on those dating sites never looks as good as the other women. Does that mean that I may have fallen into the spinster category? I have recently bought a cat, after all.
Watching this world through my TV screen has just made me hope for some love this year. It’s been too long and despite everything that I’ve just written, I feel that I’ve got the maturity to understand the ups and downs of a partnership now. I’d quite like to weather the storm with somebody and get to the end of the road still holding onto their hand.