I’m 38, unmarried, with no children—and, you know what? I’m utterly content. None of the so-called “problems” people assume come with my status bother me. I live in a bustling city, have a rewarding career, my own flat, and a car—all achieved without anyone else’s help. What’s more, I support my parents, who live in the countryside. The amusing part? No one believes I’m over 30. Maybe it’s because I look younger or carry life with a lightness of heart.
My name is Emily Whitmore, and I’ve always known what I wanted. After school, I studied marketing at university and built my career from there. Now, I’m a department head at a leading firm. The work is engaging—travel, meeting people, constant learning. My salary covers more than just living expenses; I can save too. Loving what I do is surely part of why I’m always in good spirits.
Five years ago, I bought my flat—modern, with large windows, right in the city centre. I furnished it just how I like: bright, cosy, with artwork I’ve collected from my travels. My car isn’t flashy, but it’s dependable—perfect for city drives and trips to see my parents in the Cotswolds. Those weekends away are a respite from urban life. I help Mum and Dad with chores, bring groceries, or fix up bits around their cottage. They love my visits, and I’m glad to make their lives a little easier.
People often ask why I’m single and childless. To some, it’s puzzling, especially at my age. But I don’t feel like anything’s missing. I’m open to love but in no rush. If the right person comes along—brilliant. If not, I won’t lament it. My friends and I fill my days—cinema trips, gigs, dinner parties. I’ve hobbies, too: yoga, watercolour painting, the occasional dance class. My life’s so full, boredom never lingers.
Some assume I’m hiding some sorrow, but I’m not. I simply live as I please. I won’t bend to others’ expectations or marry because it’s “the done thing.” At first, my parents fretted—especially Mum, who longed for grandchildren. But she’s come to see my happiness. Now she teases, “Em, you’re like a film star—forever young and free.”
Occasionally, acquaintances insist it’s “too late” for family. I don’t believe in such timelines. Life isn’t a schedule. I’ve known women who had children after 40 and thrived as mothers. If I ever want kids, I’ll cross that bridge. For now, I relish my freedom—spontaneous holidays, weekends as I choose.
My youthful look? Part genes, part lifestyle. I exercise, eat well, and care for my skin. But the real secret’s my mindset. I don’t let stress dim my days; I solve problems, not dwell on them. When strangers guess I’m 30, I laugh and say, “It’s because I live lightly.”
My parents are my foundation. They’re proud I’ve stood on my own feet. I visit often, bearing gifts, handling bills or repairs. Mum bakes my favourite scones; Dad shares tales of his youth. Those moments are priceless. I’m grateful for them and pray they stay well.
What’s next? Who knows—and that excites me. I dream of a grand tour—perhaps Italy or Japan. I’ll keep growing in my career, maybe start my own venture someday. A dog’s on my mind, too—a fluffy little companion to share joy with. Life’s an adventure, and I’m ready for the next chapter. The key? I’m happy as I am. And that’s what truly matters.
