"Are you a Child or an Adult?"

Recently, I had an interesting experience as a single thirty-five-year-old woman. I was invited to a children's birthday party of one of my mother's colleagues. Honestly, I didn't want to go because I wasn't in the mood to socialize or be surrounded by sugar-crazed children running wild on birthday cake, sheepish adults conversing about work, and experiencing heart attacks with balloons exploding every couple of seconds. I told my mom that I wasn't up for it, as it would be awkward because I would be the only adult who isn't married, has a child, and does not work in a hospital.

I didn't expect my mother to pull out the "please" card accompanied by the puppy dog eyes and the baby voice. Argh! Why does my heart have to be so weak? I agreed to accompany her, and I mentally prepared myself for what was ahead.

Fast forward to the night of the party, and I had my first existential crisis in deciding what to wear. What was appropriate attire for a children's birthday party? After great inner turmoil, I settled on a bright pink floral dress because you can never go wrong with colour, right? We arrived at the party hall that the kids' parents had booked for the event. It was the usual Indian party; the hall was decorated with balloons, fathers were off to one side, and mothers were on the other, having animated discussions in their circles.

It was a diverse crowd of people from India, Bangladesh, and Pakistan. Most of the adults were physicians, including my mom. I took a deep breath and got settled at one of the round tables. The host of the party comes over, and she couldn't have been a few years older than me, and we all made way with the pleasantries and the introductions. As the conversation flowed, she mentioned that she had games planned for all the children. She glanced over at me while she was talking. Inside my head, I thought to myself, "She doesn't expect me to play these games, right?". Just to be sure, I responded that it would be fun for the kids. She confirmed my worst fears when she said she was expecting me to play as well. I was quite flabbergasted. She continued to say that I would stop being a child when I was married. When did marriage become the rite of passage to adulthood?

Being the smart aleck that I am, I jokingly asked whether I would still be invited to play games when I was sixty years old and unmarried. She didn't respond, and I wasn't sure what she was going to do. The games began, and I decided to blend into the wallpaper just in case. I guess my skills in camouflaging were weak because midpoint, when there was a game for the teenagers, this woman summoned me to the front on the mic in front of all the guests. What was I supposed to do? I ambled awkwardly to the front as all the eyes were fixed on me. I played the game with the least amount of energy that I could afford and quietly returned to my seat. To further my humiliation, one of the children asked me whether I was a child or an adult. To which I responded that I was a child trapped in an adult's body. She seemed satisfied with the answer and left me in peace.

I am always amused at how our culture tends to infantilize unmarried adult women, and this is not the first time that this has happened to me. I am acknowledged as an adult if I am attached to a man. What about my individual experience? My wisdom? My value as a woman? My ability to make choices for myself? Why are my experiences invalid because I haven't tied the knot? Experiences like these make me ponder my identity and value as a human being deeply. Perhaps, we as a society have miles to go when it comes to the single woman and her empowerment.

Well, there was no real harm done, and I got an interesting story out of it. Perhaps, in the past, I used to get riled up and triggered by these experiences. The older I get, the less I need to explain myself to people. I don't feel the need to defend myself because I feel relaxed that I am moving in what is best for my life, even if the life I have decided to live is unconventional.