During a training session recently, a client was telling me about his 11 year old son who is in the process of trying out for a hockey team. Apparently, the son tried out for the team last year and didn't make it, so he's been working out and practicing extra hard to ensure a better chance of making the cut this year. My client noted that not making the team last year was a great character building experience for him, as well as a lesson in the value of hard work.
I instantly thought of a similar experience from my own childhood. I was in 7th grade when I decided to try out for cheerleading. My best friends were cheerleaders and I had always been involved in dance classes and gymnastics, so cheerleading was especially appealing to me.
I went to the practices, learned the cheers, and moderately recited them in my own time. I wasn't really sure what to expect, and it turned out I had no idea. I didn't know, for instance, that wearing your hair off your face for tryouts was mandatory. Incidentally, I had arrived with my hair down. My friends freaked out on my behalf, which prompted my Mom to scramble for ideas. Not a hair elastic in sight, my Mom ended up improvising with a small leather strap from my brother's baseball glove found in the trunk of the car.
Anyway, I tried out for the squad and did not make it. The limited time I had spent practicing on my own and my unpreparedness had cost me a spot on the squad. An overly emotional tween at that time, an expected torrential downpour of tears were shed.
But that experience in defeat did not reduce my desire to become a cheerleader. I did not blame the judges for being unfair. I didn't accuse any of the other girls of cheating. I knew in my heart of hearts that I did not practice enough. I knew that I was not as prepared as I should have been that day.
The next year in 8th grade I tried out for the high school squad. I had practiced relentlessly, and I showed up to tryouts with my hair fixed in the most important pony tail of my life.
Armed with confidence and enough enthusiasm to supply an entire cheer squad, I was going in prepared. As a result, I made the team. My hard work and relentless drive had paid off.
The thing about trying new things as a kid is that there are no risks involved. If I hadn't made the team, then life would go on and I was comfortably aware of that fact. I'd be devastated if I wasn't selected a second time, of course, but never once did I stew on the possibility of how my life would be affected if I had failed.
We are so much less hesitant as kids to go after what we want because there's so much opportunity for us to try new things and absolutely no repercussions if one or several things do not work out.
As an adult, however, the fear of failure often paralyzes us and prevents us from trying new things too often. There are real consequences if things don't work out, usually because the stakes are higher regarding the choices we make as adults. Careers, relationships, cross-country moves, investments, etc. involve a lot of risk.
Knowing full well we could never be as prepared for big life changes as much as we can prepare for cheerleading tryouts, we do our best to learn the information available to us regarding our options, then say "fuck it" and just go for it. We eventually choose to risk everything knowing we may get nothing except a good dose of character building and lesson learning.
But despite risk, we learn throughout life that making a leap is exactly how we evolve and become better individuals.
As an introvert, I'm a big fan of looking before I leap. And I usually take a long time to look. Too long. But moving forward is important for improving the quality of life regardless of the outcome, and I only know this from experience. As scary as change is, it's time again to fix my hair into an important ponytail and take a leap.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
What a Difference a Trip Around the Sun Makes
A year ago around this time I was having a really rough go at life. I was burned out from work and missing my former social life. Things eventually got better, mostly because I stopped feeling guilty for feeling terrible and finally gave myself permission to feel whatever the fuck I was feeling at the time, no matter how unpleasant. Relief, clarity, and peace resulted.
Mentally, so much has changed for me in the last year. Changing my perspective regarding my circumstances changed everything. For instance, last year at this time I was bemoaning the loss of close friendships, and this year I am celebrating having uncovered the truest friends in my life. Real friends understand that life happens, and sustaining a friendship sometimes means only exchanging random texts here and there.
Because the concept of understanding is a major component of any relationship, I learned that those who fail to understand will eventually fall away for good. I learned -although extremely difficult to accept- that a broken friendship is okay. I no longer carry the burden of thinking that I'm a bad friend or a bad person for having disappeared while my life was turned upside down after I changed careers nearly four years ago. I will also no longer apologize for how my life is unfolding and how I choose to deal with it.
That being said, I happened to rekindle some dormant friendships in the last year that I knew in my heart could still sustain life. I'm thrilled that even though our separate worlds have changed, our bond has most certainly stayed in tact. I admit that I do shut the world out sometimes, but I know that the people who are meant to be around when I rebound will be there.
Not unlike last year, I am quite overwhelmed with life at any given moment, and I still don't necessarily have the time or energy for much of a social life. The career I chose is not without its drawbacks, but it's fucking important to me. I still have to work my ass off just to pay my bills, and I'm still perpetually exhausted. And yet, I still find the desire to better myself and constantly improve. I'm always dreaming up ideas and working on new things, and I am now positive that I can have everything I've ever desired.
Last year at this time my outlook on life was grim. I was drowning in a sea of helplessness, unaware of how to save myself. But now I'm so much more accepting of whatever emotion I'm feeling at any point, and I've accepted that difficulties and uncertainties are a part of life. The thought that things could always be better serves as a motivational tool, and the thought that things could most certainly be worse reminds me to express gratitude.
I'm just trying to exist and live a worthy life just like everyone else, succeeding sometimes, failing other times, but accepting my journey nonetheless.
Mentally, so much has changed for me in the last year. Changing my perspective regarding my circumstances changed everything. For instance, last year at this time I was bemoaning the loss of close friendships, and this year I am celebrating having uncovered the truest friends in my life. Real friends understand that life happens, and sustaining a friendship sometimes means only exchanging random texts here and there.
Because the concept of understanding is a major component of any relationship, I learned that those who fail to understand will eventually fall away for good. I learned -although extremely difficult to accept- that a broken friendship is okay. I no longer carry the burden of thinking that I'm a bad friend or a bad person for having disappeared while my life was turned upside down after I changed careers nearly four years ago. I will also no longer apologize for how my life is unfolding and how I choose to deal with it.
That being said, I happened to rekindle some dormant friendships in the last year that I knew in my heart could still sustain life. I'm thrilled that even though our separate worlds have changed, our bond has most certainly stayed in tact. I admit that I do shut the world out sometimes, but I know that the people who are meant to be around when I rebound will be there.
Not unlike last year, I am quite overwhelmed with life at any given moment, and I still don't necessarily have the time or energy for much of a social life. The career I chose is not without its drawbacks, but it's fucking important to me. I still have to work my ass off just to pay my bills, and I'm still perpetually exhausted. And yet, I still find the desire to better myself and constantly improve. I'm always dreaming up ideas and working on new things, and I am now positive that I can have everything I've ever desired.
Last year at this time my outlook on life was grim. I was drowning in a sea of helplessness, unaware of how to save myself. But now I'm so much more accepting of whatever emotion I'm feeling at any point, and I've accepted that difficulties and uncertainties are a part of life. The thought that things could always be better serves as a motivational tool, and the thought that things could most certainly be worse reminds me to express gratitude.
I'm just trying to exist and live a worthy life just like everyone else, succeeding sometimes, failing other times, but accepting my journey nonetheless.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
The Hunter and the Gatherer
During a boxing workshop at work recently, I was enjoying hitting the mitts of my co-worker when she started randomly asking me personal questions. I try to remain private and not to divulge too much of my personal life at work, but apparently her curiosity got the best of her, because as I was firing away punches, she was firing away questions. And the harder I punched, the harder her questions were to answer.
Who is Fabian?
*jab, cross, jab, cross*
First, he was my trainer, then my friend, then my boyfriend, then my friend again. Basically he's my bunny daddy.
*jab, cross, hook*
Did you live with him before?
*jab, cross, hook*
Yes, when I was a poor, newly minted personal trainer and just starting to build my business I lived with him for two years.
*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*
Why did you break up?
*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*
Well, we decided we both had different ideas for our future, so we broke up and remained friends. Best friends.
*jab, cross, jab, cross, jab, cross*
Don't you still want to get married one day?
*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*
Well, it's not that important to me. I'm open to being in a relationship, but marriage is not a goal for me.
*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*
What is important to Stephanie then?
I didn't throw any more punches at this point, because I felt as if I had been the victim of a TKO. Fuck. What is important to me? I could have easily said my work, my family, and my bunnies, but I could tell she was looking for a more meaty answer. Something less obvious.
I don't often have to explain myself to others, therefore I don't often spend a lot of time explaining myself to myself. I know what I don't want, and I have a fairly good idea of what I do want, and that's that.
But many of my big dreams aren't that different from the dreams of people who are married and have kids. For instance, I want to own my own business. I want to own my own home. I want to live closer to my family. I want to travel. I want to live a creative life.
I just don't really see a need for a husband now, or possibly ever. I've been fiercely independent my whole life. I'm 37 years old and for the entirety of my adult life, I have been the hunter AND the gatherer. I have provided for myself in every way possible and have no intention of giving that up. In a society that's constantly trying to make individuals feel less than for not conforming to social standards, I am proud of the fact that I don't have to rely on a man to help me run the show.
Of course I need people in my life. Just because I am independent and love being alone, doesn't mean I don't get lonely or crave love. I just don't want to be anyone else's responsibility. And I don't want to be responsible for anyone else. I love helping friends and loved ones, and I do need help too more often than not, but I don't need a legally binding contract forcing me into a life with someone for better or worse.
Don't get me wrong - I think marriage is more than beneficial for most people. I think the commitment of marriage is admirable and I know couples who go together so well that I've wondered how they ever survived without each other (my parents, for example). I've also known people who have completely turned their lives around because they found a life partner that helped renew their purpose for life. I genuinely believe that marriage makes a lot of people happy. But for my independent spirit, I just don't see the point.
I am open to meeting someone I can be with for the long haul, though. I'm not actively looking for anyone right now, because I'm currently content with the single life, and ain't nobody got time for that anyway.
A few people have asked me if I thought my unconventional relationship with Fabian is preventing me from meeting someone, but I don't really think that's it. Dating just isn't a priority for me right now for so many other reasons. Even though I'm open to finding love, I do realize that I'm less likely to find it if I'm not actively seeking it. For now though, that's okay.
After a tough strength workout recently that made me feel like a total beast, I declared to a co-worker that had I lived in an era of early humans, I would indeed be a hunter AND a gatherer. And that is how I will choose to view my modern day perpetually single status.
Who is Fabian?
*jab, cross, jab, cross*
First, he was my trainer, then my friend, then my boyfriend, then my friend again. Basically he's my bunny daddy.
*jab, cross, hook*
Did you live with him before?
*jab, cross, hook*
Yes, when I was a poor, newly minted personal trainer and just starting to build my business I lived with him for two years.
*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*
Why did you break up?
*jab, cross, hook, uppercut*
Well, we decided we both had different ideas for our future, so we broke up and remained friends. Best friends.
*jab, cross, jab, cross, jab, cross*
Don't you still want to get married one day?
*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*
Well, it's not that important to me. I'm open to being in a relationship, but marriage is not a goal for me.
*jab, cross, dip, jab, cross dip*
What is important to Stephanie then?
I didn't throw any more punches at this point, because I felt as if I had been the victim of a TKO. Fuck. What is important to me? I could have easily said my work, my family, and my bunnies, but I could tell she was looking for a more meaty answer. Something less obvious.
I don't often have to explain myself to others, therefore I don't often spend a lot of time explaining myself to myself. I know what I don't want, and I have a fairly good idea of what I do want, and that's that.
But many of my big dreams aren't that different from the dreams of people who are married and have kids. For instance, I want to own my own business. I want to own my own home. I want to live closer to my family. I want to travel. I want to live a creative life.
I just don't really see a need for a husband now, or possibly ever. I've been fiercely independent my whole life. I'm 37 years old and for the entirety of my adult life, I have been the hunter AND the gatherer. I have provided for myself in every way possible and have no intention of giving that up. In a society that's constantly trying to make individuals feel less than for not conforming to social standards, I am proud of the fact that I don't have to rely on a man to help me run the show.
Of course I need people in my life. Just because I am independent and love being alone, doesn't mean I don't get lonely or crave love. I just don't want to be anyone else's responsibility. And I don't want to be responsible for anyone else. I love helping friends and loved ones, and I do need help too more often than not, but I don't need a legally binding contract forcing me into a life with someone for better or worse.
Don't get me wrong - I think marriage is more than beneficial for most people. I think the commitment of marriage is admirable and I know couples who go together so well that I've wondered how they ever survived without each other (my parents, for example). I've also known people who have completely turned their lives around because they found a life partner that helped renew their purpose for life. I genuinely believe that marriage makes a lot of people happy. But for my independent spirit, I just don't see the point.
I am open to meeting someone I can be with for the long haul, though. I'm not actively looking for anyone right now, because I'm currently content with the single life, and ain't nobody got time for that anyway.
A few people have asked me if I thought my unconventional relationship with Fabian is preventing me from meeting someone, but I don't really think that's it. Dating just isn't a priority for me right now for so many other reasons. Even though I'm open to finding love, I do realize that I'm less likely to find it if I'm not actively seeking it. For now though, that's okay.
After a tough strength workout recently that made me feel like a total beast, I declared to a co-worker that had I lived in an era of early humans, I would indeed be a hunter AND a gatherer. And that is how I will choose to view my modern day perpetually single status.
The Decision
I was visiting my parents in Ohio and sitting in their living room on an impossibly hot July day several years ago when LeBron James announced his decision to take his talents to Miami. The reaction to the The Decision by Cavs fans was heard round the world. People in Ohio freaked the fuck out. The local news paper, in highly dramatic fashion, published a nearly full page photo of the reactionary faces of the members of one of his fan clubs - a group of grandmothers. Grandmothers, for crying out loud. Does it get any sadder than seeing a bunch of grandmothers looking shocked and disappointed?! Some people were more angry than sad and they expressed their anger by burning jerseys bearing his name in the streets. Upon hearing the news, my Dad laced together a line of obscenities so long it could have circled the globe several times.
My own reaction was a bit different though. As a life long Cavs fan and supporter of LeBron James, I did not immediately feel sad, angry, or disappointed. I felt brief shock, followed by a complete understanding. LeBron wasn't leaving Ohio because he hated it. LeBron was leaving Ohio because he needed to discover more. He needed to experience more. He wanted to get out of the bubble that is Akron, Ohio because the idea that life was different in other parts of the country was not lost on him. Okay, maybe he thought he'd have a better chance to win a championship in Miami. In fact, I'm pretty sure that was the number one reason. And maybe I'm the one projecting all of these thoughts onto LeBron's situation because these are all the things I felt when I decided to leave the town where I grew up to move to Chicago.
I did not want to leave because I hated Ohio or I hated my family. I wanted to leave because I had the desire to grow. Previously to moving to Chicago, I had always taken the easy road, or the path of least resistance. Challenge scared me, so I avoided it most of the time. Even though finishing college in four years was challenging, I chose the least challenging major, for instance. My decision to move to Chicago was going to be the biggest challenge of my life, and I needed to prove to myself that I could do it.
I've been in the city for nearly 14 years, and I can say without reservation that the big city does not make life easy. The big city does not allow you to take the path of least resistance. I've struggled a lot while living in Chicago, but I've changed a lot too. I'm a stronger person because of my struggles, and I don't think I'd be the person I am today if I never risked it all to move so far out of my comfort zone.
Despite the grind and grit of city life, being away from my family for 14 years has definitely been the hardest part of living in Chicago. I often find myself wondering what more I have left to do in Chicago, or if it's finally time to wrap things up in Oz and click my heels to head back to Kansas.
In fact, I have such a strong desire to move back to Ohio to be closer to my family that I'm predicting I'll make the move within the year. I've been weighing this decision for several years now, and I finally feel in my heart that it's time. I truly feel as if I came, I saw, and I conquered the big city. There is plenty I'll miss, plenty I won't, but nothing beats the fact that I just want to be with my family.
Despite the grind and grit of city life, being away from my family for 14 years has definitely been the hardest part of living in Chicago. I often find myself wondering what more I have left to do in Chicago, or if it's finally time to wrap things up in Oz and click my heels to head back to Kansas.
In fact, I have such a strong desire to move back to Ohio to be closer to my family that I'm predicting I'll make the move within the year. I've been weighing this decision for several years now, and I finally feel in my heart that it's time. I truly feel as if I came, I saw, and I conquered the big city. There is plenty I'll miss, plenty I won't, but nothing beats the fact that I just want to be with my family.
Friday, January 29, 2016
The Many Forms of Fulfillment
As the perky blonde woman at the Morley Health Center proceeded to passionately talk about all the "wonderful" changes that occur when a girl morphs into a woman, my bony butt began to shift uncomfortably in the hard, plastic chair. My Mom was sitting next to me and I felt a little embarrassed that such a topic was being discussed in her presence. As a fifth grader, it just didn't seem natural to hear all about the joys of leg shaving and training bras. After all I was still playing with Barbie dolls and had absolutely no protrusions on my chest that required any sort of "training." (I still don't, truth be told.)
But the real discomfort set in when the woman began teaching my fellow girl scouts and I about childbirth and our reproductive organs. I don't know what grossed me out more - the frequent talk of blood or the word "uterus." Either way the whole situation disgusted me and when the cheerful woman asked if anyone had questions, I promptly raised my hand and announced that I was going to barf.
Without hesitation my Mom grabbed my hand and rushed me into the hallway and into the bathroom where I proceeded to blow chunks. As my lasagna dinner reappeared before me, my Mom uttered the words, "You will never be able to handle having babies." I did not disagree.
I've always known that I didn't want to have children. I played with Barbie dolls, not baby dolls, for instance, and my Barbie dolls never became mothers. In addition to the gross out factor of childbirth, babysitting every child within a 5 minute bike ride from my parent's house as a teen made me feel just as queasy about the idea of parenting. But of course I've spent most of my life in denial of this feeling. I mean, having kids is what we are supposed to do, right?
As a kid who grew up in a middle class suburban town, I was only ever exposed to what was deemed "normal," and normal is basically defined as "what everybody else is doing." So I thought I'd grow up to get married and have kids because that's what "normal" people did. I even told my 7th grade English teacher that my life plan was to graduate college, get married at 24, then start having kids at 27. She looked at me square in the eyes and asked, "You think it's really gonna happen that way?" Well, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't it?
It wasn't until I was exposed to thought provoking adult literature at my liberal arts university that I discovered that marriage and family are options, not obligations. The Awakening by Kate Chopin specifically served as my epiphany and woke me up to a whole new world of possibilities for living my life that felt far more natural to me.
Still, I wasn't quite ready to accept that I wasn't the mommy type. For years I kept myself open to the possibility of marriage and family only if I met the right guy. Well, I've met plenty of right guys, but none of them ended up magically changing how I felt.
A close friend once urged me not to be so close-minded. But why would I force myself to feel the opposite way of something I was so sure of in my heart? I took the advice anyway and continued to date men that I knew wanted to be fathers one day. But I only ended up breaking hearts and becoming discouraged and extremely heartbroken myself. I've felt like a fake, a fraud, and a deceptive bitch telling boyfriends that I'd consider having children when my entire being was firmly rejecting the possibility.
I can comprehend why people cannot fathom the decisions of others, especially when something like having kids is such a strong biological pull for most women. But imagine, if you will, having no desire or biological pull to want to have a baby? At 37 years old, my womb is not crying out for a child. My womb has never even whispered the thought.
Just because I have no desire to have kids does not mean that I don't like children. I am obsessed with my nephew. I love babies just as much as anyone and I believe that holding a baby is the most peaceful feeling on earth. I love the small voices of toddlers and I love the hilarious things that come out of their mouths. I empathize with the struggles of fluctuating teenage hormones, as I am still very in tune with what it was like to be a teenager. But these are all things I can enjoy or appreciate without bearing any fruit myself.
I will offer a dose of honesty and admit that I do not like the loud chaos that children cause, even though I think it's crucial for kids to be wild and crazy and play their little hearts out. But truth be told, I didn't even like the chaos of children when I was one. I always preferred playing alone in quiet spaces and hanging out with the adults at family gatherings. Adult conversation has always been far more fascinating to me, even when I was too young to fully understand what was being discussed.
I also don't like the thought of being tethered to my home because I cannot go out if I don't have someone to babysit the kids. And I do not like the thought of leaving my house on a whim only with the condition of having to dress a baby in bulky winter gear and haul around an even bulkier stroller.
I don't want to help my kid learn long division, because I feel I already suffered enough math hell for several lifetimes.
I don't want to schlep my kids and their gear to sporting events in the cold and be forced to make idle chit chat with other parents. My parents loved going to my brother's games growing up, and my brother loves going to my nephew's games. Being parents is what they love and what they do well. And while I absolutely love seeing my nephew in action at his soccer games when I visit, I just cannot muster the same sort of enthusiasm for the idea of cheering on my own kids every Saturday.
Most of all, I don't like like the thought of sacrificing my alone time and already feel as if I don't have enough time to myself. That might sound a little crazy, but if you are introverted, you probably understand. My time alone is as important as the air I breathe.
Maybe you think I'm selfish, but I consider myself self-aware. I know in my heart of hearts that being a Mom would not positively add to my life. And with 7 billion people on this earth I'm fairly certain the world doesn't need my rugrats running around. But I respect the demanding role of motherhood to an infinite degree. I'm just not cut out for that role. And I'm okay with that.
Sometimes it irks me when I see things on Facebook regarding how, "People don't know what exhaustion is until they've had kids!" or shit like, "We didn't know what fulfillment was until we had kids!" Well, I can tell you that getting home at 10:30pm after a full day of physical activity and being "on," and then having to wake up at 4:30am to do it all over again is pretty fucking exhausting. The difference, I recognize, is that I do actually get to sleep in a couple times a week, and I'm beyond thankful for that. Perpetual sleep deprivation is definitely another reason I don't want children, but I commend the courageous men and women willing to sacrifice their slumber for 18 years or so.
Regarding fulfillment, I can assure you that having a child would not satisfy a missing piece to my life's puzzle. Because fulfillment comes from within and doesn't come from chasing happiness through external sources, there are many paths to fulfillment. Fulfillment stems from spending time doing what you love and living authentically, which is different for everyone. It's being at peace with who you are and the decisions you make regarding how to live your life.
Although I kind of hoped I'd be the rich, world-traveling aunt who could pay for her nephew's college education and could afford to take her whole family on vacations, I am not. But I've learned that being a single, childless, jet-setting city gal with plenty of disposable income is not the opposite of having a family.
I gain fulfillment from working out and being fit and healthy. I gain fulfillment from reading and learning. I gain fulfillment from being organized and having my shit together. I gain fulfillment from a full night of sleep and eating well. I gain fulfillment by setting new goals every year and working hard to reach them. I gain fulfillment at work by helping people become stronger and healthier than they were before they met me. I gain fulfillment from taking care of my pet bunnies. I gain fulfillment from spending Christmas with my family every year.
You see, my life is not lacking because I am not married and do not have children. There are a lot of things I love about my life that wouldn't even be possible if I were married with children.
I'm endlessly respectful of how anyone chooses to live their life, and all I want is for people to respect my path. At the very least, I hope people will understand that I am happy with the choices I've made for my life. And I hope that you are happy with the choices you've made for your life, understanding that amidst all of life's obligations, we are fortunate to have options.
But the real discomfort set in when the woman began teaching my fellow girl scouts and I about childbirth and our reproductive organs. I don't know what grossed me out more - the frequent talk of blood or the word "uterus." Either way the whole situation disgusted me and when the cheerful woman asked if anyone had questions, I promptly raised my hand and announced that I was going to barf.
Without hesitation my Mom grabbed my hand and rushed me into the hallway and into the bathroom where I proceeded to blow chunks. As my lasagna dinner reappeared before me, my Mom uttered the words, "You will never be able to handle having babies." I did not disagree.
I've always known that I didn't want to have children. I played with Barbie dolls, not baby dolls, for instance, and my Barbie dolls never became mothers. In addition to the gross out factor of childbirth, babysitting every child within a 5 minute bike ride from my parent's house as a teen made me feel just as queasy about the idea of parenting. But of course I've spent most of my life in denial of this feeling. I mean, having kids is what we are supposed to do, right?
As a kid who grew up in a middle class suburban town, I was only ever exposed to what was deemed "normal," and normal is basically defined as "what everybody else is doing." So I thought I'd grow up to get married and have kids because that's what "normal" people did. I even told my 7th grade English teacher that my life plan was to graduate college, get married at 24, then start having kids at 27. She looked at me square in the eyes and asked, "You think it's really gonna happen that way?" Well, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't it?
It wasn't until I was exposed to thought provoking adult literature at my liberal arts university that I discovered that marriage and family are options, not obligations. The Awakening by Kate Chopin specifically served as my epiphany and woke me up to a whole new world of possibilities for living my life that felt far more natural to me.
Still, I wasn't quite ready to accept that I wasn't the mommy type. For years I kept myself open to the possibility of marriage and family only if I met the right guy. Well, I've met plenty of right guys, but none of them ended up magically changing how I felt.
A close friend once urged me not to be so close-minded. But why would I force myself to feel the opposite way of something I was so sure of in my heart? I took the advice anyway and continued to date men that I knew wanted to be fathers one day. But I only ended up breaking hearts and becoming discouraged and extremely heartbroken myself. I've felt like a fake, a fraud, and a deceptive bitch telling boyfriends that I'd consider having children when my entire being was firmly rejecting the possibility.
I can comprehend why people cannot fathom the decisions of others, especially when something like having kids is such a strong biological pull for most women. But imagine, if you will, having no desire or biological pull to want to have a baby? At 37 years old, my womb is not crying out for a child. My womb has never even whispered the thought.
Just because I have no desire to have kids does not mean that I don't like children. I am obsessed with my nephew. I love babies just as much as anyone and I believe that holding a baby is the most peaceful feeling on earth. I love the small voices of toddlers and I love the hilarious things that come out of their mouths. I empathize with the struggles of fluctuating teenage hormones, as I am still very in tune with what it was like to be a teenager. But these are all things I can enjoy or appreciate without bearing any fruit myself.
I will offer a dose of honesty and admit that I do not like the loud chaos that children cause, even though I think it's crucial for kids to be wild and crazy and play their little hearts out. But truth be told, I didn't even like the chaos of children when I was one. I always preferred playing alone in quiet spaces and hanging out with the adults at family gatherings. Adult conversation has always been far more fascinating to me, even when I was too young to fully understand what was being discussed.
I also don't like the thought of being tethered to my home because I cannot go out if I don't have someone to babysit the kids. And I do not like the thought of leaving my house on a whim only with the condition of having to dress a baby in bulky winter gear and haul around an even bulkier stroller.
I don't want to help my kid learn long division, because I feel I already suffered enough math hell for several lifetimes.
I don't want to schlep my kids and their gear to sporting events in the cold and be forced to make idle chit chat with other parents. My parents loved going to my brother's games growing up, and my brother loves going to my nephew's games. Being parents is what they love and what they do well. And while I absolutely love seeing my nephew in action at his soccer games when I visit, I just cannot muster the same sort of enthusiasm for the idea of cheering on my own kids every Saturday.
Most of all, I don't like like the thought of sacrificing my alone time and already feel as if I don't have enough time to myself. That might sound a little crazy, but if you are introverted, you probably understand. My time alone is as important as the air I breathe.
Maybe you think I'm selfish, but I consider myself self-aware. I know in my heart of hearts that being a Mom would not positively add to my life. And with 7 billion people on this earth I'm fairly certain the world doesn't need my rugrats running around. But I respect the demanding role of motherhood to an infinite degree. I'm just not cut out for that role. And I'm okay with that.
Sometimes it irks me when I see things on Facebook regarding how, "People don't know what exhaustion is until they've had kids!" or shit like, "We didn't know what fulfillment was until we had kids!" Well, I can tell you that getting home at 10:30pm after a full day of physical activity and being "on," and then having to wake up at 4:30am to do it all over again is pretty fucking exhausting. The difference, I recognize, is that I do actually get to sleep in a couple times a week, and I'm beyond thankful for that. Perpetual sleep deprivation is definitely another reason I don't want children, but I commend the courageous men and women willing to sacrifice their slumber for 18 years or so.
Regarding fulfillment, I can assure you that having a child would not satisfy a missing piece to my life's puzzle. Because fulfillment comes from within and doesn't come from chasing happiness through external sources, there are many paths to fulfillment. Fulfillment stems from spending time doing what you love and living authentically, which is different for everyone. It's being at peace with who you are and the decisions you make regarding how to live your life.
Although I kind of hoped I'd be the rich, world-traveling aunt who could pay for her nephew's college education and could afford to take her whole family on vacations, I am not. But I've learned that being a single, childless, jet-setting city gal with plenty of disposable income is not the opposite of having a family.
I gain fulfillment from working out and being fit and healthy. I gain fulfillment from reading and learning. I gain fulfillment from being organized and having my shit together. I gain fulfillment from a full night of sleep and eating well. I gain fulfillment by setting new goals every year and working hard to reach them. I gain fulfillment at work by helping people become stronger and healthier than they were before they met me. I gain fulfillment from taking care of my pet bunnies. I gain fulfillment from spending Christmas with my family every year.
You see, my life is not lacking because I am not married and do not have children. There are a lot of things I love about my life that wouldn't even be possible if I were married with children.
I'm endlessly respectful of how anyone chooses to live their life, and all I want is for people to respect my path. At the very least, I hope people will understand that I am happy with the choices I've made for my life. And I hope that you are happy with the choices you've made for your life, understanding that amidst all of life's obligations, we are fortunate to have options.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
What I Learned in 2015
Months ago my brother texted me some photos he pulled from a
scrapbook I made for him when he graduated high school. One of the photos was
of myself, my best friend Mandy, and my brother. He sent another of himself and his
best friend Michael who passed away when we were in high school. I told him I
didn’t remember when or where the photos were taken, to which he replied,
“That’s why you need to see the movie Inside
Out.”
Without totally giving the plot away, I will only tell you
that the movie is about an 11 year old girl and the various emotions living inside
her head, along with the life-long memories stored in her brain. Up until a certain point as a child, the emotion of joy is what we experience most, and we tend to mostly reflect upon happy memories. But as the story unfolds we learn that as we grow older, the positive and negative events in our lives and our
resulting emotions are far more complicated - and necessary.
The movie helped me remember the
importance of making memories, even though many of them naturally become dormant along the way. But for most of my life, I was obsessed with creating experiences for
myself that I could learn from and recall fondly. As an adult in her late
30’s, however, I’ve had a tendency to get wrapped up in all the things I
have to do just to exist that I forget the importance of relaxing,
having fun, and taking the time to reflect upon positive and negative experiences in the form of journaling.
In addition to making quality memories, learning to accept all of my emotions was the biggest lesson I learned in 2015. I discovered that it's okay to be sad, for instance. It’s okay to feel sadness and not be happy all of the time. In fact, I'm doing a serious disservice to myself when I don’t honor my emotions. Resisting negative feelings and experiencing guilt for not being happy all of the time only makes me feel worse. But it's impossible to feel happiness all of the time, and that's actually a good thing. Think about it. If humans were happy all of the time, would we ever find the motivation to challenge ourselves and become better people by trying new things? Nope.
Just as much as it’s okay to feel sadness, I re-learned that it’s
okay to have FUN! In fact, “play time” is crucial to my well
being, as it is for every human. We live in a society that
values being busy all of the time. Being overbooked, overwhelmed, and
chronically exhausted is a lifestyle considered tantamount to a life balanced
with hard work and leisure in this country. Even though I learned to resist the
toxic concept of a “go, go, go” lifestyle, I haven’t totally let go of the
guilt that I’ve been conditioned to feel anytime I’m doing anything other
than working or doing chores. But play time is important for a healthy
lifestyle. Play time in the form of drawing, sprinting up a hill, dancing,
painting, etc. fosters creativity and relieves stress. It allows us to be
present while getting lost in the moment. It allows us to focus on the task at
hand, while simultaneously helping us figure out solutions to problems
unrelated to the task at hand.
2015 was the year of understanding and honoring my emotions. This past year definitely had some rough patches, but there were also a lot of highlights to balance things out. I learned even more about myself and the world this year than the previous year, and as long as I continue to learn and grow every year that I’m alive, I will consider myself fulfilled.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Adulting in 2015
When I was a kid, I often fantasized about being an adult and living on my own. A husband and kids were never in these fantasies, but making my own choices and getting to do what I wanted when I wanted to were definitely the stuff of which my dreams were made.
I remember one instance while sitting at my parent's kitchen table savoring a Girl Scout cookie thinking to myself, "I am going to buy and eat as much of these as I want to when I grow up." And I'm happy to say that at 37, I am truly living the dream.
While grocery shopping recently, I realized that as an adult I am entitled to buy anything I want simply because I want to buy it. If I want pumpkin pie and cheese cubes for dinner, then I have every right to do so. Being single and independent really is just as glorious as I thought it would be when I was a kid.
I've been so annoyed with "adulting" lately that I was relieved at the positive revelation of the good side to being an adult. Typical adult responsibilities like dealing with insurance companies, public transportation, working ridiculous hours, struggling with finances, and general daily tasks can be so annoying and draining, so it's important to seek out the simple pleasures reminding me that worrying is pointless and everything will always be okay. Because as an adult, my primary responsibility is to make sure that everything will be always be okay.
Purchasing random, delicious food is not the only thing that makes being an adult glorious though. As a fitness professional, I do eat healthy most of the time, and working out is a top priority for me. Working out makes me soooooo HAPPY. If I'm feeling down, spending an hour honoring my body and what it does for me immediately changes my perspective on anything negative in my life. The act of being aware of my physical presence and intensely focusing on an exercise immediately elevates my mood and provides me with energy for hours. I am grateful to have a career where I have the freedom to block out time for myself. If all occupations allowed this, I could guarantee we'd live in a healthier, happier world.
Another great thing about being in adult is the wisdom accrued with each passing year. In 2015 I have learned that I must never let anyone (especially someone I consider a friend) make me feel like I am a bad person just because I live my life by my own terms and follow my own path to fulfill my needs and dreams. I learned that it takes honest, true friends to help me uncover such bits of wisdom. At 37 years old I have been able to filter my friends so that only the truest remain. And those who remain are respectful of my choices, supportive regarding the challenges I face, and are not put off by the time and distance separating us. This may be one of the most important lessons I've learned as an adult. Being separated but not alienated from true friends is crucial for my well-being.
Adulting is a pain in the ass most of the time, but it's not too difficult to remember all of the wonderful things that come along with being an adult, even if it's as simple as choosing pumpkin pie and cheese cubes for dinner.
I remember one instance while sitting at my parent's kitchen table savoring a Girl Scout cookie thinking to myself, "I am going to buy and eat as much of these as I want to when I grow up." And I'm happy to say that at 37, I am truly living the dream.
While grocery shopping recently, I realized that as an adult I am entitled to buy anything I want simply because I want to buy it. If I want pumpkin pie and cheese cubes for dinner, then I have every right to do so. Being single and independent really is just as glorious as I thought it would be when I was a kid.
I've been so annoyed with "adulting" lately that I was relieved at the positive revelation of the good side to being an adult. Typical adult responsibilities like dealing with insurance companies, public transportation, working ridiculous hours, struggling with finances, and general daily tasks can be so annoying and draining, so it's important to seek out the simple pleasures reminding me that worrying is pointless and everything will always be okay. Because as an adult, my primary responsibility is to make sure that everything will be always be okay.
Purchasing random, delicious food is not the only thing that makes being an adult glorious though. As a fitness professional, I do eat healthy most of the time, and working out is a top priority for me. Working out makes me soooooo HAPPY. If I'm feeling down, spending an hour honoring my body and what it does for me immediately changes my perspective on anything negative in my life. The act of being aware of my physical presence and intensely focusing on an exercise immediately elevates my mood and provides me with energy for hours. I am grateful to have a career where I have the freedom to block out time for myself. If all occupations allowed this, I could guarantee we'd live in a healthier, happier world.
Another great thing about being in adult is the wisdom accrued with each passing year. In 2015 I have learned that I must never let anyone (especially someone I consider a friend) make me feel like I am a bad person just because I live my life by my own terms and follow my own path to fulfill my needs and dreams. I learned that it takes honest, true friends to help me uncover such bits of wisdom. At 37 years old I have been able to filter my friends so that only the truest remain. And those who remain are respectful of my choices, supportive regarding the challenges I face, and are not put off by the time and distance separating us. This may be one of the most important lessons I've learned as an adult. Being separated but not alienated from true friends is crucial for my well-being.
Adulting is a pain in the ass most of the time, but it's not too difficult to remember all of the wonderful things that come along with being an adult, even if it's as simple as choosing pumpkin pie and cheese cubes for dinner.
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