Many of our mothers secretly wanted us to do what they did not, could not: to free ourselves from the limits that those Women's Libbers were fighting against - to free us to get our education, to have that career. Our fathers struggled with wanting us to make those college degrees worth the investment, yet wanting us to marry to be safe from having to make it on our own.
Most of us who had the wherewithal, the backing or the drive did pursue those opportunities. We got our degrees, took those first jobs, started those careers. Once I got that under my belt, all I really wanted was to be a mom, to stay home and raise my kids, to feel taken care of, protected, financially and emotionally. I did what Mother told me to do and got my degree and career to protect myself, to have something to fall back on, but I was done, ready to marry, ready to have a family! I think I always knew it, but kept that little tidbit tucked away; I wouldn't want my degree to be a waste, that just wouldn't be right.
Seven years, two promotions and three jobs into that career, and only a short four months past the ideal time to start a family (two full years of marriage), I knew the moment I held my firstborn in my arms that I had found my true PURPOSE! I did the cursory return to work after three months, and I did it as perfectly as Dr. T. Barry Brazelton said we moms should - continued breastfeeding (pumping twice daily at work), made homemade baby food, blended a babysitter at home with a church 'Mother's Morning Out' program to expose my son to other children.
As I was returning to work, Carly Simon's Coming Around Again album is what I cried to. I was miserable back in my 'opportunity' job, the one that I had had to fight to get, the one that projected those golden boys on to big fat careers in the Pharma industry. I wanted to prove that I could get that opportunity; I fought for it even though no one with my degree had been given the chance. It was what I was raised for - management! Right? I mean young women of this age had degrees, had careers. We were supposed to be the super-moms, have it all. But then my baby started to walk, and I was exhausted and I was aching for him every day.
Thank God I was able to resign just after my son's first birthday. I honestly never looked back. I could tell that my husband was not thrilled even though he refused to express his wishes, but I was pretty strong willed; it was our second biggest fight (the first centered around my unwillingness to change my name upon marriage). Maybe that should have been my first sign. Hindsight being what it is. Finally, I had my purpose, my calling, and I threw myself into it with fervor and passion, unlike anything I had ever done before. I was going to be the perfect stay-at-home mom, and raise the best kids possible.
Flash forward 17 years and guess what? That life I had all perfectly planned out - the one where I finish a master's for a new, more interesting career, go back to work when my youngest is approaching high school - part time, mind you, earning just enough to pay for that college tuition so my husband wouldn't worry about money (never-mind that we were in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town with all the associated accouterments), we get the kids through college, continue with those occasional European vacations, retire comfortably to travel more and begin to enjoy the grandkids...
Real life happened while I was busy making those other plans.
Real life happened while I was busy making those other plans.
My story is pretty common and almost textbook - married for twenty years, we had our problems - depending too much on the other, or depending too much on stuff or on outside friendships for our own happiness, you can make the list.
Then husband's father dies, the outside friendship turned into a little more for him, and next thing I know my world has turned on a dime. My plans go up in smoke. Degree to fall back on or no, the terror sets in.
Remember when you were pregnant and all of a sudden you saw pregnant women everywhere? Thankfully, or rather sadly, I began to see I was not alone. Even in my small community there were several of us, and it happened to two others I knew at almost the exact time I found myself in that situation. The story lines are different, yet so much the same, and each comes with so much pain.
It's the kind of pain that you can't really explain, and can't really understand until you've gone through it. Like labor pain I guess. But that's another story.
This story, the one that fits the mold, has to do with us, we women (and sometimes men) who had our lives all planned out and then...
So come to find out, and when I say find out, I mean truly find out, I've finally begun to remember more often than not, that life happens FOR us, as my counselor drilled into me. The biggest struggle is not facing what we have to face - a life where we are solely responsible for our well being. That struggle is tough enough, and I hope by building this community we can help each other enjoy that.
The biggest struggle is letting go of those plans we had.
The longer I continued to force my unpredictable life into that plan and saw that there was no longer a fit, the more miserable I was. Believe me, it can slowly kill us if we lose our focus and continue to cling to smoke and mirrors. It's a lesson I must continue to learn each day. I forget all the time.
How about you? Did your life turn out different than you had planned for it to? I used to be jealous of all of those women living the life I was SUPPOSED to live. Well, I still get jealous sometimes. But now? Now I get to make choices! How great is that? Well, that's the problem sometimes, and my new purpose. I hope you will join me in this unpredictable journey towards opening the windows to our souls and growing our purpose. I believe our collective purpose began a long time ago. For me, that purpose, way back when, might even include using that skill that Miss Mosely in third grade told me I used - 'nice adjectives!'
What about you? What unexpected direction has your life taken you in? Let's get to work! Isn't life beautiful?
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