I like Beyoncé as much as the next person. Her latest hit, “Put A Ring On It”, has bothered me. I really like the beat, you can dance to it, and I give it a ten (for those of you who actually remember American Bandstand), but the lyrics are another story. How did we go from the bra-burning 60’s, to the power struggle 80’s for equal income, right back to circa 1950 wanting to be June Cleaver in the kitchen with a ‘ring’ on it? Is that what the women’s movement has been about – slap an apron on and give me a mixer, just as long as I have a diamond to show?

All the single ladies (as the song goes) listen up. You are not defined by the clothes you wear, the purse you carry, nor the ring on your finger and the person who placed it there. This is not a prize you get after the 5k Single Race of the Fittest. There’s no finish line.

So many women lace up and jump on track to find the perfect man, mate, future father of their beautiful unborn children, never once slowing the pace down and actually enjoying the run itself. Then once they do find that special someone, and make the matrimonial commitment, their mere existence seems to fall aside. “No, we can’t join you for dinner, Joe is out of town on business.” “We would love to attend your party, but Joe is under the weather.” Well, Joe is the one who’s sick sweetheart – reach in your closet and grab a fun outfit and while you’re in there, look for the personality you lost, go out and have a good time.

Now, I’m not saying I do not believe in marriage. I honestly do, and think it’s one of life’s most fascinating, spiritual, and emotionally connected unions. Humans are naturally pack animals. We have the drive to find a mate to walk beside us, share our meals, and groom each other in private. Just don’t lose who ‘you’ are in the process. I feel that if enough people clearly defined themselves before walking down the aisle, we would have a lower divorce rate.

“Put a Ring on It”. The only time I will be saying that line is while I’m standing across the counter at Tiffany’s, looking deeply into the eyes of a polished, dark suited salesman named Geoff. Pass the little blue bag dude…I’ll take care of putting it on.

Have a question or comment for our Single Gal?
Write to single@dentonlifestyles.com

For more brain droppings, follow the Single Gal on
twitter.com/DentonSingleGal