I met my husband…
three decades ago. Before I met him, I had been independent and self-sufficient. I had my own apartment, and I had a decent job. I was happy. And then he came along, and I didn’t know how to be alone anymore.
The first time we broke up, when we were dating, I fell apart. The next few times I cried less and grew stronger. Each time I felt like the real me slowly rose to the surface. I felt more than just weightless, I felt like I existed. So illumined I forgot about my other self, the one that only knew how to operate within a romantic relationship.
Square Peg
So, in the beginning of our marriage I struggled with my upbringing that would decree I was to be a dutiful wife. I was stubborn and opinionated. I questioned and disagreed. But I still became someone who everyone expected me to be.
I was the respectful daughter and the silent wife. I had become adept at rocking the boat just enough to expel a little anger, but not enough to tip it over. Always the peacekeeper in all my relationships. Outside of that persona I had no idea who I was. Or I should say forgot who I was.
My 10-year-old self was fearless I mused. She loved to explore and be on her own. As a young adult my independence was my survival. I lived alone and created a peaceful cozy home for myself. I didn’t think about who I was, I just was. Then I met my husband and let my round self fall easily into a square peg.
What Was I Afraid to Lose?
Throughout my marriage I couldn’t even imagine walking away. What was I afraid to lose? The distance I already traveled. What did I think I would win? What good is it to win the race if you cross the finish line and find that you have left behind vital parts of yourself?
As a boyfriend, it was okay to let him go. As a husband, I was supposed to stay by his side, right? I just had an epiphany. I realized that my belief was that boyfriends are boys, and they make mistakes and husbands are men and have learned their lessons. Even though my theory was shattered countless times. Men are humans.
Where did I get that from? I could spend a few decades trying to figure that one out but this time I’m going to focus on what I should have all along. Me. If I look back at the me that came before I was of age and family expectations were placed on my shoulders, and before any relationship flotsam what will I see?
I was adventurous, and curious, and I had a great imagination. Those qualities earned me the title of dreamer. I was told that I would need to be sensible if I was to be successful in the world. Maybe. But now the word success has a much broader meaning.
Keep Walking
Boyfriend, husband, wife, daughter, dreamer, just titles. My husband is a man who only sees roles and feels a little uncomfortable when attempting to function outside of them. He, and the family he came from, are all about making money. Now that I think of it mine is as well.
I didn’t fit in and have been stuck all these years between who I am, who I was supposed to be, and who I’m not.
I am a person who just wants to be free to imagine and express. The fact that I’m writing right now is a dream. Yet because I’m not making any money, it is of no value to those around me. I haven’t told any family about this blog for that reason. It’s okay though. I am incredibly proud of me and what I’m doing.
It’s a blissful secret of mine.
The goal is to embrace who I’ve been all along, pushing the fear of ridicule off the runway, and keep walking. Maybe twirling a little every now and then.
“Your struggle is your strength. If you can resist becoming negative, bitter or hopeless in time your struggles will give you everything.”
Bryant McGill
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