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One Plus One Equals Old Maid

One Plus One Equals Old Maid

For someone who has never been very good at math – and, as a result, not very fond of it – I sure have been doing a lot of calculations lately.

How else to explain my nimble mathematics on the flight from Tel Aviv to Newark when I promptly figured out that I am over two decades older than the adorable Israeli teenage girls seated next to me, the ones who helped me figure out how to use the tv screen and remote control because I am such an old lady?

The ones brimming with excitement for their first visit to the States while I sat there thinking, there is nothing new under the sun. Such youth! Their whole lives ahead of them! I could be their mother! And considering these were religious girls, it also dawned on me that by the time they are my age they will no doubt be married with many children, and not gallivanting around the world, childless and a bit lost and more than a bit bitter.

What a freak I am, I thought. What a waste of a human being.

And even my cousin’s suggestion, "If you can’t find a place for yourself in conventional society then find yourself an alternative society," just made me feel discouraged. I mean, I am not looking for an alternative community. I don’t want to have a baby with a gay man or to have a child with another straight, single woman. And I don’t want to have a baby alone. It is not that I am against any of these things – it is only that they are not right for me.

So what to do?

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