looking in the mirror

I’m going to stop talking in generalizations for a minute and literally point the finger at myself because I’ve been bothered by a few things and generally I like to yell at everyone who’s in the same boat as me instead of looking in the mirror and telling myself, and only myself, to get over it.

I am the very thing, the very kind of mom/wife/person/woman I always thought I wanted to be but never lived up to in my head. I am the one who decided not to finish college and instead pursue a career in Real Estate which faded in to a placeholder career in Banking until I had babies. Which I did, quickly, after becoming married at 19.

I was the only one who was pregnant and not working when I attended a “reunion” of sorts for the women of my homeschooling program – I was (and I hate myself for this) expecting to be the only one who was going to do it differently (you know, mother.) and I was going to walk in to this room of women in long dresses with braided hair all breast feeding their 3 kids while rocking in a half circle of chairs and eating their organic jams on homemade breads.

I am awful at stereo-typing.

Turns out I was the only one who was pregnant at all. The only one with a baby even on the horizon. These women were getting their Masters’, were lawyers, were traveling all over the world and had amazing jobs, most weren’t even married yet.

This is pretty much how my life goes – by the books – and I’d like to believe so badly, so so so badly, that I’m on the outside of all of my stereo types. You know, with tattoos and rage and poetry … but here I sit embarking on a homeschooling adventure so we can all follow my husbands dream which might take us all over the map of the U.S. and I’ve moved all of my “things” in to storage but I yearn for my damn sewing machine and I love it. (Most of the time.)

I am reveling in this life, watching my daughter light up as she’s learning to read and helping my son match colors and words. They’re reveling as well.

Like I said: Expectation issues. I come face to face with them all the time. I was supposed to be the one traveling all over the world with an amazing job. I was supposed to be the one who, even though I might settle down, never actually settled down.

And I’m sick of painting this picture because the only one who cares is me anymore. If I want to travel all over the world – then renew your damn passport, Jodi, and book a freaking flight.

Stop apologizing for not living up to your mythical life. How about instead you live in your present one, now, and reap the benefits of it’s laughter, growth, dirt, depth and inadequacies.

No one else is going to do it for you.

3 thoughts on “looking in the mirror

  1. Dude, lady. (I will not drop the f-bomb, promise)
    YOU RELISH.
    Yeah, we get a little wistful for the dreams of our youth, but the path we are on is the one God laid out for us. He knows. HE KNOWS.
    You have adventure on your horizon in addition to the everyday extraordinary. From the outside looking in,(HI!) you create sparkle around you.
    Life is a rollercoaster? Try pinball machine. Be grateful for the moments resting on the plungers because you can’t be certain where the ride will take you.

  2. During college, I lived in a house with seven other guys, each of whom was following totally different paths – a programmer, a couple of engineers, two philosophy majors, a pre-law student, and one guy who served mostly to act as a super-lefty foil when it came to political and philosophical debate.

    Two of those seven guys are doing what they planned ten years ago – and my former communist argument partner is a buyer for Sotheby’s. 🙂

    Show me a person living their childhood dream, and I’ll be surprised. Mine was to be a garbageman.

  3. @Katie – thank you! You make me smile 🙂

    @Rich Ard – a great reminder that I’m not in a bubble, thank you. I think I am living my childhood dream actually and coming to terms with the fact that childhood and adulthood dreams don’t always align but life happens any way and coming to terms with the imperfections within it.

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