Monday, August 11, 2008
Giving Up the Dream?
Disclaimer** It is my prerogative to feel one way on Saturday and COMPLETELY different on MONDAY. Got it? Good.
This morning I woke up and didn't want to get out of bed. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and so I did (only a few summer days left to be able to do this). My sheets are the color of a September sky and I let them rest on my face, forming a blue silhouette of my body, still as a corpse that's just been covered in a hospital. I could picture the nurse in her glowing white uniform, the sun shining behind her head as she walks up and covers me, saying "Yep, this one didn't make it."
For some reason I woke up wishing to be a "simple" Mormon girl again. By simple, I don't mean simple minded, I mean simply beautiful and believing and full of faith and hope (like Jenn's beautiful comment described yesterday!). Now, I still have all those qualities, but whereas before they were each beautifully laid out on the kitchen table of my life, it seems I have taken them, put them in a blender, pressed the liquify button, and now don't know how to tell one from the other. I'm not quite sure what kind of girl I am anymore, or what I really want to ask from life.
Two years ago my life was a lot more simple. I knew I wanted to marry an LDS man, in the LDS temple, and raise children who believed in all of these things and were strong and immovable in the faith and we would have beautiful time singing Primary hymns about Jesus. We would skip to various places in slow motion. My hair would always be perfectly combed. The sun would always shine. My husband's teeth would sparkle when he smiled. We would say family prayers, kneeling next to one another as I had grown up doing with my family. We would go to church each Sunday, in matching outfits (just kidding, I never wanted this, but I have seen it a lot). My daughters would get the Young Womanhood Recognition awards and my boys would be Eagle Scouts. I would serve in the Relief Society with a smile, and I would know how to grind wheat, and I would know how to bake homemade bread because it is healthier and better and cheaper. I would stay at home and teach my children to read before they went to Kindergarten. Goodness, maybe I would even home school and have children who were on a 9th grade reading level at only 10 years of age! All these things I could see clearly, and I really did want them.
I don't anymore. Not exactly these things.
My dreams are different now...a little more hazy, a little more self-aware. But the two things that have been constants are the dreams of wife and mother.
And I woke up this morning truly wondering if there comes a point in life where you just give up the dream. Does there come a point in a woman's life where she should just let it go? I mean, really! Should I just stop dating, stop trying? Stop putting myself out there again and again? I always told myself it would be when I turned 34. I don't know if I can hold on that long anymore.
It's hard to pose this question to my readers because most of you are married and you do have children and you can't picture your lives without either of those two factoring into the equation.
But, I am feeling old. I am not that old, I know. But today I feel old. And I feel tired. I am tired of carrying around this dream.
So, I've been thinking all morning "Wow, D'Arce, when are you just going to let it go? When are you going to realize this might not be YOUR path. When are you going to get the ball rolling on other things? Isn't it finally time to give up the dream of husband and family and realize it just might not be in the cards for you? Huh? Are you listening to me D'Arcy? When is enough finally going to be ENOUGH? You've been at it for OVER a decade!!!!!!!!!! When you just gonna give it up?"
So, does there come a time to give up one dream, replace it with another, and move on? Is it HUMANLY possible to ever give up that idea of finding the right person? How did it get SO ingrained in our genetic make-up?
P.S. It does not help that I have a bridal photo shoots scheduled for the next four weeks. Not at all.