It's beginning to feel like it's time to pack up and move on. Cut ties and get out of Dodge. Move on to new adventures, new experiences, a different journey. Time is ticking too quickly and I'm missing out on something important.
Let's be honest though, this point has been a long time coming. I've been waiting patiently for something to happen. Some great opportunity to come my way and set me free from this mediocrity. The longer I wait, the more urgently I am reminded that I have to make things happen for myself.
I'm feeling particularly trapped as I shuffle through old photographs of exotic places I've never been and interesting people I've never met. This isn't my life displayed here. And it never will be if I don't do something, and fast.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Selfish
If you know me or have read much of this blog, you are already familiar with my frustration with other women. I admit it is rather self-righteous of me to be so harsh and assume that I don't fall into the same pattern of behavior that seems so natural for my sex. Self-righteous or not, I can't help being angry.
What really irks me is that I am quickly judged by these women for my choices NOT to be a wife and mother. Perhaps they're jealous of my freedom? Perhaps they feel I'm denying the obligation that comes with having a uterus? Perhaps they just want me to follow the rules and join the Mommy Club? They are free to hold whatever grudge they want against me, but please, please don't tell me I'm being selfish for not making the same decisions they have made.
Over the last year I think I have grown up enough to set and maintain boundaries for myself. I know who I am, I know what I want for myself, and what I want out of my life. I have high hopes for myself, and I don't intend to lose sight of my goals. If my visions don't include chasing a toddler around a yard encircled by a white-picket fence in suburban, upper-middle class America, that's OK. It's my vision, my life. I can get what I want out of it. If that makes you uncomfortable, that's your problem.
I realize at this point that I am wrongly focusing my frustration instead of confronting the true source. While I might be frustrated by the stay-at-home-mom scenario, what really scares me is that this seems to be where I'm headed. I feel my life slipping away, passing me by. I'm stuck. I want desperately to get away, but where? Volunteer for an overseas deployment? At least I get out of this current situation. I can't stay where I am. And once the year or so is up, I'll have a small fortune saved to go and do what I please. I don't even have to come back. I can disappear; slip out of this grip of growing obligations that's tightening every day.
Perhaps it seems contradictory to take up the Army life in order to gain freedom. But it's a limited amount of time with endless possibility to follow. I can do anything for a set amount of time. If I have an identified end-point, I only have to remind myself "this won't last forever," and focus on the task at hand. While my life here in Denver isn't bad, to say the least, it seems to stretch out endlessly ahead of me, unchanging, uninterrupted, and completely unfufilling.
I've always felt there's too much world to see to be stuck in one place. I'm beginning to feel stuck, and I need to get out fast, before I accumulate too much baggage.
What really irks me is that I am quickly judged by these women for my choices NOT to be a wife and mother. Perhaps they're jealous of my freedom? Perhaps they feel I'm denying the obligation that comes with having a uterus? Perhaps they just want me to follow the rules and join the Mommy Club? They are free to hold whatever grudge they want against me, but please, please don't tell me I'm being selfish for not making the same decisions they have made.
Over the last year I think I have grown up enough to set and maintain boundaries for myself. I know who I am, I know what I want for myself, and what I want out of my life. I have high hopes for myself, and I don't intend to lose sight of my goals. If my visions don't include chasing a toddler around a yard encircled by a white-picket fence in suburban, upper-middle class America, that's OK. It's my vision, my life. I can get what I want out of it. If that makes you uncomfortable, that's your problem.
I realize at this point that I am wrongly focusing my frustration instead of confronting the true source. While I might be frustrated by the stay-at-home-mom scenario, what really scares me is that this seems to be where I'm headed. I feel my life slipping away, passing me by. I'm stuck. I want desperately to get away, but where? Volunteer for an overseas deployment? At least I get out of this current situation. I can't stay where I am. And once the year or so is up, I'll have a small fortune saved to go and do what I please. I don't even have to come back. I can disappear; slip out of this grip of growing obligations that's tightening every day.
Perhaps it seems contradictory to take up the Army life in order to gain freedom. But it's a limited amount of time with endless possibility to follow. I can do anything for a set amount of time. If I have an identified end-point, I only have to remind myself "this won't last forever," and focus on the task at hand. While my life here in Denver isn't bad, to say the least, it seems to stretch out endlessly ahead of me, unchanging, uninterrupted, and completely unfufilling.
I've always felt there's too much world to see to be stuck in one place. I'm beginning to feel stuck, and I need to get out fast, before I accumulate too much baggage.
Tied Down
I had a nervous breakdown last weekend. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. Surrounded by strangers, suffocating in the heat and humidity, overwhelmed from the days' activities, I had a sudden and sneaking realization that "this" was going to be my life. It was all laid out before me; the expectations, the obligations, the respects paid and sacrifices made. And no one else seemed to notice how utterly perfect and yet so wrong it all was. I don't belong here. I'm an impostor; but welcomed like one of the family. I couldn't breathe. I had to get out. I slept in the back seat of the car; the two-door coupe. I had to be alone, regain my independence. I'm not sure where I lost it?
Is that an inevitable aspect of relationships, losing one's separateness? One's individuality? One's single-ness?
What happens if I'm not ready to surrender that yet? What happens to the rest of my life if I just give in now? Give in to their expectations? What am I losing? Does what I gain out-weigh all that I lose? Losing something I don't have, yet, for something so secure, something seemingly sealed?
And what does he have to sacrifice? Nothing. He's had his time. He's had his adventures. He's gone places, seen things, lived his life as he pleases, no regard for these domestic expectations.
I knew it was a mistake to go through that stack of old photos in his apartment. It's just proof that you have lived a life that I will never get to experience, not at this rate any way. And I have no one to blame but myself. My own laziness, my own lack of focus and ambition, my own fear. I should have made more opportunities for myself. I have a lot to offer, but I've let my self-doubt, my insecurities, hold me back; tie me down.
Is that an inevitable aspect of relationships, losing one's separateness? One's individuality? One's single-ness?
What happens if I'm not ready to surrender that yet? What happens to the rest of my life if I just give in now? Give in to their expectations? What am I losing? Does what I gain out-weigh all that I lose? Losing something I don't have, yet, for something so secure, something seemingly sealed?
And what does he have to sacrifice? Nothing. He's had his time. He's had his adventures. He's gone places, seen things, lived his life as he pleases, no regard for these domestic expectations.
I knew it was a mistake to go through that stack of old photos in his apartment. It's just proof that you have lived a life that I will never get to experience, not at this rate any way. And I have no one to blame but myself. My own laziness, my own lack of focus and ambition, my own fear. I should have made more opportunities for myself. I have a lot to offer, but I've let my self-doubt, my insecurities, hold me back; tie me down.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Meet the Family
"We're going to Nebraska for Memorial Day weekend with my family," he announced. "They have a house, on a lake. We'll water ski, bar-b-que, drink beer; it'll be great."
"Okay, sounds fun," I replied, struggling to mask my hesitation. I had met the family before. Even spent a night at his parents' house. There had been a couple birthday dinners and holiday meals shared, but never an entire weekend. An entire weekend in Nebraska no less. An entire weekend four hours away by car, and a million miles away from my comfort zone.
I'm not one to shy away from events, even if they make me nervous. I am soundly of the mindset that everything will probably be better than I expect it to be, especially if I have a positive attitude.
"You'll stay in the cabin with me, my mom, and the kids," his sister informed me at a noisy dinner party a week or so before the trip. "Hope that's okay," she added. "The guys are going to camp outside - the house isn't very big," she explained.
"Sure, sounds fun," I replied. "I like camping; should I bring my tent?" I offered, hoping to find a way to escape the inevitably awkward situation unfolding before me.
"No, we'll leave the camping to the guys," she insisted.
"It's going to be fine - good opportunity to get to know the family better. Just smile and nod," I told myself.
Smile and nod seemed the best strategy to get me through the family fun. But when old family friends and childhood playmates came out of the woodwork to meet and greet, I ended up bombarded (perhaps assaulted?), with more than I could have anticipated.
"What do you mean you don't want children? Don't you think that's kinda selfish?"
"When you two gettin' hitched? He's not getting any younger you know."
"Why don't you take the kids swimming, get a taste of what real life is like."
"You really don't want kids? He'd be a great dad."
"Can the kids sleep here with you guys tonight? We don't really want to drive back into town."
Needless to say, it was difficult falling asleep with a sweating 8 year old on one side, and four other warm bodies in the room with an AC that had been shut off with grandma's concerns that the babies would be too cold. Around 3 am I went outside and cried myself to sleep in the backseat of the car. By 5 I was shivering and tired of the lumpy pile of towels around me so I went back inside and crawled onto the sleeper sofa bed, careful not to disturb anyone, hoping to finally get a few minutes of rest, not realizing that 5:15 am is a standard rise-and-shine time for a 2 year-old.
Exhausted, I begged, "can we please go now." I had survived 32 hours with the boyfriend's family and the four hour drive back to Denver passed quickly as I snoozed away the nightmare.
"Okay, sounds fun," I replied, struggling to mask my hesitation. I had met the family before. Even spent a night at his parents' house. There had been a couple birthday dinners and holiday meals shared, but never an entire weekend. An entire weekend in Nebraska no less. An entire weekend four hours away by car, and a million miles away from my comfort zone.
I'm not one to shy away from events, even if they make me nervous. I am soundly of the mindset that everything will probably be better than I expect it to be, especially if I have a positive attitude.
"You'll stay in the cabin with me, my mom, and the kids," his sister informed me at a noisy dinner party a week or so before the trip. "Hope that's okay," she added. "The guys are going to camp outside - the house isn't very big," she explained.
"Sure, sounds fun," I replied. "I like camping; should I bring my tent?" I offered, hoping to find a way to escape the inevitably awkward situation unfolding before me.
"No, we'll leave the camping to the guys," she insisted.
"It's going to be fine - good opportunity to get to know the family better. Just smile and nod," I told myself.
Smile and nod seemed the best strategy to get me through the family fun. But when old family friends and childhood playmates came out of the woodwork to meet and greet, I ended up bombarded (perhaps assaulted?), with more than I could have anticipated.
"What do you mean you don't want children? Don't you think that's kinda selfish?"
"When you two gettin' hitched? He's not getting any younger you know."
"Why don't you take the kids swimming, get a taste of what real life is like."
"You really don't want kids? He'd be a great dad."
"Can the kids sleep here with you guys tonight? We don't really want to drive back into town."
Needless to say, it was difficult falling asleep with a sweating 8 year old on one side, and four other warm bodies in the room with an AC that had been shut off with grandma's concerns that the babies would be too cold. Around 3 am I went outside and cried myself to sleep in the backseat of the car. By 5 I was shivering and tired of the lumpy pile of towels around me so I went back inside and crawled onto the sleeper sofa bed, careful not to disturb anyone, hoping to finally get a few minutes of rest, not realizing that 5:15 am is a standard rise-and-shine time for a 2 year-old.
Exhausted, I begged, "can we please go now." I had survived 32 hours with the boyfriend's family and the four hour drive back to Denver passed quickly as I snoozed away the nightmare.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Skill Set
I am feeling particularly blessed this week at work. About a week ago I disseminated a memo to the uppity-ups requesting a raise. I recognize that this is not the economy in which it really makes sense to be making such a request, but I believe that in the past 11 months of full-time employment, I have proven myself a valuable employee. Not only that, but my responsibilities have changed and increased significantly since my hire. My superiors agreed with my argument and agreed to a 10% raise, effective yesterday, May 18. I breathed a huge sigh of relief after that meeting. My days of stretching every penny and stressing out about whether my rent check will clear the bank, or whether my debit card will be declined with every swipe, are over. Not that I will have a huge expendable income, but I will be able to manage things a little easier, and perhaps even put something aside in savings. I anticipate having to pay for a large, important event in the upcoming months, and the last thing I want to do is finance a dress.
Regardless of the extra money, it's just easier to come to work everyday, knowing that my work is valued and that my employer appreciates me. I can't lie though, I am really excited to get my first "big" paycheck.
Regardless of the extra money, it's just easier to come to work everyday, knowing that my work is valued and that my employer appreciates me. I can't lie though, I am really excited to get my first "big" paycheck.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Moving Out
My lease is up in July. When I signed the lease this time last year, I did not anticipate staying there more than a year. I thought I would be heading West for school and whatever new adventures California had to offer. While my plans have changed, and I'm not where I thought I might be, I haven't quite decided what to do in terms of my living situation.
I received a tempting proposal last week and I'm still trying to way the pros and cons and determine how I feel about it. I don't like the idea of giving up my own (first) place. I like my own space, I like my own bed, I like my own closet, and my own dirty dishes in the sink. One of the reasons I decided to live alone in the first place was because I was tired of dealing with other peoples' bad living habits. I thought I might be lonely, but I've kind of enjoyed some of the down time. Ive really enjoyed being on my own schedule and having the freedom to consider only myself in my plans. But faced with this new opportunity, I have to determine whether all that I'm gaining outweighs the luxuries I'm giving up. I knew I wouldn't live alone for ever, or at least I assumed I wouldn't. I just didn't expect to give that up right now. I haven't made up my mind, and I don't have to today, but the thoughts are churning my brain into butter. So I have to talk it out, write it out, and I seem to be having the conversation with everyone except the person that needs an answer. Perhaps that's not a good sign? Another potential casualty of my indecision? Not this time; it's too important to risk. Time to wrestle down the Possibilities demon, have an honest conversation about my concerns and doubts, and make a decision.
I received a tempting proposal last week and I'm still trying to way the pros and cons and determine how I feel about it. I don't like the idea of giving up my own (first) place. I like my own space, I like my own bed, I like my own closet, and my own dirty dishes in the sink. One of the reasons I decided to live alone in the first place was because I was tired of dealing with other peoples' bad living habits. I thought I might be lonely, but I've kind of enjoyed some of the down time. Ive really enjoyed being on my own schedule and having the freedom to consider only myself in my plans. But faced with this new opportunity, I have to determine whether all that I'm gaining outweighs the luxuries I'm giving up. I knew I wouldn't live alone for ever, or at least I assumed I wouldn't. I just didn't expect to give that up right now. I haven't made up my mind, and I don't have to today, but the thoughts are churning my brain into butter. So I have to talk it out, write it out, and I seem to be having the conversation with everyone except the person that needs an answer. Perhaps that's not a good sign? Another potential casualty of my indecision? Not this time; it's too important to risk. Time to wrestle down the Possibilities demon, have an honest conversation about my concerns and doubts, and make a decision.
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