Honestly, I was kind of hoping not to make it to this milestone.
In my imagination, I would start writing the blog, it would help a ton of people, then I would start dating someone, get engaged, and have to stop writing.
Yeah. That SO didn’t happen.
I’m tired. Part of me doesn’t want to write anymore. It’s hard to work to try and put my thoughts into coherent words that make sense to other people and can be encouraging. It's hard to be open and share your struggles with the internet. It’s hard to keep putting in that hard work when you don’t know if anyone is reading what you wrote. Is it helping anyone? Or am I just sending these words into blank space? But another part of me says that I still have more to say. I wish someone else could say it for me; I wish I was on the other side. But I’m not. And that’s life.
I was recently reading a novel (the book itself had many, many issues) where one character woefully says about another, “It would be a tragedy if she never got married.”
A tragedy? Really? I mean, yeah, it would be sad if she wanted to get married and never did, but does that render the rest of her life as a tragedy? I think not.
Last Sunday was Mother’s Day. Last year I wrote about how it can be a hard day for people, including singles. This year, through the flood of Mother’s Day posts on FB, I was glad to see people also acknowledging the difficulty of the day. (I in no way attribute this change to myself).
Personally, I was really grateful for a family who acknowledged my value as a “mother-figure.” All the women in my family are mothers and so sometimes that means that all the planning and gift-buying, etc. can fall on my shoulders. I expressed my frustration with this to my brother. And then he really stepped up. He took charge of the Sunday meal, told people what they needed to bring, and set everything up (with help of course). I was very proud of him for taking the reins and trying to make an easy day for the moms (and me – although I did help with the meal and made dessert). My sister’s kids made me cards and a flower and my brother gave me a rose, just like the other “mothers.”
“There are moms who have kids, and there are moms who don't. [I’m] a mom who doesn't have kids."
- Stolen from my cousin Charity's Facebook post
When they say this, it feels like they are saying that they have children because that is their calling. It would follow that since I don't, I am not called to be a mom. Or that if I was called to be a mom, I would have kids by now. (Again, for clarification, I'm not saying this is what they think, I'm just saying how this statement makes ME feel). I think pretty much anyone who knows me knows that I greatly desire to be a mom. It is possible that I may never have biological children of my own. But I can live out that calling to be a mother with or without my own children. When you think about it like that, it's pretty awesome. It's still painful to not have something you really want, but it makes it a little easier to deal with that desire.
Following right on the heels of Mother's Day is my birthday. Today I turned 31. Typing that number is hard. It’s hard to look at where my life did not go this year. I didn’t even go on one date this entire year.
BUT – what I can do (and should do), is look at where my life DID go this past year. I went to China. I started swimming and eating a little healthier. I started volunteering with the Big Brother Big Sister program. I started taking violin lessons. I started writing letters again. I got some affirmation at work that people do notice how good I am at my job. I got those dang shenae turns down, finally! I moved out of my terrible apartment into a nice townhouse, with a garage.
So maybe my 30th year wasn’t so bad after all.
Maybe 31 will be even better.
Now excuse me while I go drink my birthday Mountain Dew.
*Today's post is brought to you by Terrible Facebook ads: