Tired of my parents’ constant nagging about my nonexistent love life, I cooked up a scheme to bring a fake girlfriend to their big anniversary bash. Helen, my childhood buddy, was game to play the part, but what started as a joke suddenly felt all too real. I listened to my parents my entire life, nailing every subject in school, getting into a good college, and excelling in my chosen field. I traveled. I was cultured, and in my 30s, I had a big house already when the rest of the world could barely afford rent.

My life was practically perfect because of my efforts and finances, yet my parents decided they were worried about me. Out of the blue, they said I was living half a life because—gasp—I was single. Every chat with them turned into something like: “Mom, I closed another deal and bought a house!” I would announce proudly. “That’s nice, honey. But why do you even need that empty house?

With no family to live there and no baby’s feet stomping on the floor…” Mom would reply, dismissing me entirely.No achievement mattered to them unless I had someone to share it with. And my parents weren’t the only ones. Every family gathering was the same. I would get ambushed by aunts and uncles just so they could ask when I was getting married. Other common comments included: Have you found someone yet? You aren’t getting any younger, Richard. Why are you wasting your life?

And so on, so on… For the most part, I could take all that criticism and forget about it, but something that arrived in the mail gave me a brilliant idea. My parents’ 40th anniversary was around the corner, and of course, they included a +1 on my invitation. I dreaded the thought of another night of sympathetic glances and matchmaking attempts. However, I could show up with a girlfriend.