I’m at that uncomfortable age where tons of transitions are happening.
My body is changing – as is my skin – and so are my responsibilities. My parents think I have an opinion different from theirs on everything – that I’m a rebel. The cool kids think I try too hard to fit in. There is too much to do and I’m confused about what path to take.
This could be the story of any regular teenager, yes?
Except that it’s also the story of a woman approaching her mid-thirties! (While I’m still far from it I can see the number 35 looming ominously in the distance!)
I love the theory that age is just a number.
I would love to believe it at all times.
But life has cheeky ways of reminding us that it’s not. And one of those ways is by being called “Auntie”!
Auntie? I am recoiling in horror and sputtering in dismay. Is it the way I dress? The way I do my hair? Some aura I possess?
I hate the fact that even those over 20 think it’s their birthright to call me auntie.
In spirit, I feel 25. Or perhaps to do away with a number completely, I’ll say I feel young, good, confident. Yet as a whole sub-section of a population attempt to call me ‘auntie’, I’ve got a few pointers for them. Here are my peeves:
I Could Do Without the ‘Respect’
DO NOT give me that fluff about respect when I catch you calling me auntie. If I ain’t your mom’s sister or someone’s sister-in-law or a distant third cousin, kindly refrain. Just call me Ma’am – if you must. Or better still? Use my name.
It’s actually kind of cool.
I’m Wearing That Top
When I’m trying on that particularly delicious crop top at the mall, I’d love it if you could stop your face from forming that horrified “aren’t you too old for this?” expression. You’re too young to be drinking at 19, if you really want to play that card.
I’ll Dance When I Want to
Don’t judge me when I dance with gay abandon at the nightclub. My girls’ night out is precious. For all you know, it could be my break – from motherhood, from wifehood, from the family that secretly still believes I’m a spinster, from bringing the office home.
I could do without your finger pointing or your hushed whispers, thanks.
Mother Equals Auntie?
An informal survey recently found that the act of holding a baby in your arms is directly proportional to being called ‘auntie’. Aakhir kyun?
A 29-year-old single friend of mine actually tried this. She carried a friend’s toddler in her arms and went for a walk. She was called ‘auntie’ by at least six persons, at least two of whom were over 20.
Cut out the cliches, people!
And finally, this is for mothers like myself.
After having been at the receiving end of this ‘auntie’ business, I’m making a concerted effort to introduce people by their first name to my kids.
So instead of saying, “say hello to Urmi auntie,” I’m going to tell my daughter: “say hello to Urmi.” The hope is that Urmi herself will direct the little one towards how she wants to be addressed.
Even if she chooses the title, let it be her choice!
(Radhika Bajaj is a journalist and news presenter with over a decade’s experience in Indian media. She has also designed and created content centred around women, lifestyle, health, entertainment, business & travel and enjoys writing about the same.)
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