I’ve been going through a little something lately. Struggling, in fact. Feeling a deep sense of…of what? A sense of “Now what?” A sense of “What’s next?”
But, understand that I’m not rushing anything. Not trying to fast forward my beautiful, thriving boys through their childhood. Not pushing my loving, hard-working husband towards the next step in our lives together. But instead wondering…
What’s next for me?
Driving home together a few weeks back, Husband and I passed by Boston’s North End. Where I lived for a number of years on my own. Just me. Commuter. Event Planner. Best Friend. All labels I accepted and wore like badges. And, while they were certainly each woven into the fabric that was Me at that time, I never felt those labels defined me. Or confined me. They were undoubtedly labels of the PRE-Me. The Pre-that-person-I-will-become. Someday. Someday when I would wear new labels. Today’s labels.
Wife. Mother.
Back then, living in the North End, I worked. And played. And anticipated the time that I would meet my Husband. And we would marry. Get a dog. We would start a family. And, if all worked out really well then maybe we could move to a small town near the ocean. And, when I really dreamed big, I secretly hoped I could quit my job. And stay at home to raise our kids.
So imagine my surprise when what came out of my mouth that day in the car with my husband was:
“You know what I just realized? Any future happy milestones of my life will be the achievements of someone else. Big Brother’s graduation, Little Brother’s marriage, Your promotion. There’s nothing left that will be my accomplishment. Nothing left to do and say, ‘Look! I did it!’ Because they’re done, right? The career. The wedding. The birth of our kids. My big stuff is just…done. Isn’t that sort of sad?”
Of course, Husband didn’t like hearing that any more than I liked saying it. He went on about how that’s a terrible way to look at things. That there’s plenty more for me to achieve. Write a book. Go back to work someday. Run a marathon. If you choose to be done, you will be. Don’t choose that.
He was right. And, I knew he was right. But still…something nagged at me.
Unrest.
A few days later, I was on the phone with a girlfriend of mine. She has been my friend since we worked together stopped working together in Boston. (As an aside, the truth is we were actually not friends when we worked together in Boston. We actually drove each other crazy more times than not and it took NOT working together for us to form the friendship we hold today.)
ANYWAY.
This friend is easily my most successfully introspective friend. She can analyze a situation six ways from Sunday with me until we reach that agreeable point at which we both say “Yes, yes. That’s it. Now we have it. Aren’t we clever?” When our conversation that day turned to my recent internal struggle around any future personal achievements, she was thoughtful. She listened. She heard me.
She knows me well.
She knows who I was back then.
She knows who I have become today.
She also knows we’ve moved four times in the last five years. She knows I struggled with my first newborn and then was terrified I’d never have the chance for a second. She knows the inside outs of my relationships with and within Vermont, with and within Connecticut and most importantly with and within Marblehead. She knows my educational background, my socio-economic background and the goals I may never speak aloud but set high for my children’s futures. She knows I love my husband.
She knows I’m happy.
So she listens. And lets me finish. And then she says…
You know what your problem is, don’t you? You’ve spent 38 years of your life in search of this. This today. What you have. You’ve found that life you sought for so long. Seven years ago, you lived in the town but you weren’t yet married. Then you were married but didn’t have the baby. Then you had the baby but still had to work. Then you didn’t work, had another baby but moved away from the town. And now, here you are. Happily married. With the babies. In the seaside town. Raising your children.
Honey. What’s wrong with you? Enjoy it.
And, she’s right. Maybe it’s time, finally time, to take a deep breath. And look around. And be proud. And grateful.
And content, damn it.
My boys have a lot of growing to do. My responsibility in raising them and the pride I feel in watching the people they become is far greater than any measure of my education, my employment or the geographic location of my home.
So, maybe it’s not that my journey is over. Maybe it’s just that I got over that first really damn big mountain and now, approaching 40, I get to pedal just a little slower. Breathe the wind in my face. Prepare to push hard to rise over the next hill (for there will certainly be many more hills) but then make sure to allow myself a minute to enjoy the spectacular views from its crest.
“It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end.” – Ursula LeGuin
Confessions of a Serial Swooper 
i think you should submit this to the ny times 🙂
Great one. Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the what’s next? The journey is so important, and you did a fine job reminding all of the stay-at-home moms of this!
Thanks, Kara! Miss you.
C – you are a great writer. I love your blog and this piece was fabulous. I’m sorry we have not seen more of each other. I hope cross paths soon. Sincerely, Maura
Thanks so much, Maura! I hope so, too! Thanks so much for reading and commenting.
Ugh! I didn’t need to cry anymore today!!! Great Job putting this into words. xoxo
your labels are not only “Mother. Wife.” You are still “Best Friend”.
Hey! No fair making ME cry! I love you, J.
Thanks for doing a remarkable job of summarizing what gets me through a day at a time! It is so easy to get trapped in the more today, more tomorrow mentality that I honestly can forget what I have in my life today and how lucky I am to have it. Today is the day! That’s all that matters anyway. Well done!
“jennashb” threw me but figured you out. finally. thanks so much for the encouraging words. and for reading! hope to see you guys soon.
You will still have more personal achievements, they are just not clear to you now. Your main focus is raising those 2 cute boys. You will figure out what your new accomplishments will be, but give yourself time to revel in the fact that they are little and innocent.
As a PS, the 3 girls that did not “make it” to Nationals… 2 are brand new to the team this year and 1 is a seasoned veteran, but outgrowing her role in the sport. I think they will all get over the immediate disappointment. It was definitely hard for the 12 that made it to celebrate while the other 3 were sad!
wonderful perspective from a “seasoned” mom. thanks, s.
I.TOTALLY.UNDERSTAND.WHERE.YOU’RE.COMING.FROM.
This is my daily internal struggle as well. And so, “what am I going to be when I grow up?” was born. The blogging about it really helps to remember to enjoy today and what you have.
God knows that I can’t say I “understand exactly where you are coming from” but I can see that you have many dear friends who do–which must bring you much to be thankful for. I CAN say that I have been friends with many women who have been where you are and are now years past this stage. And all will say that this is certainly the biggest accomplishment in your life but it is NOT the end of the accomplishments you’ll have. You are an individual too and you will continue to set (and exceed!) many more goals in the years to come. You must continue to do that because that is what we humans do. Your children will expect and respect that you will continue to be the wonderful unique individual that you are. But you have a whole lifetime of goals to achieve. For the moment, just sit back, kick up your heels, sip a glass of wine and be proud of all that you have accomplished. 🙂
Thanks, JB. Are you ready to hire me to carry your bags?
You just made me cry! Not that is hard to do with my preggo emotions, but I hope you are able to enjoy these moments. As I cried dropping my little guy off at daycare this morning, as he eloquently was able to protest, “No school! no school!” as he screamed, I was thriving for that contentment that you described. I almost have it…..Hopefully I will be able to enjoy it once I fix my work-life balance:)
First time commenter … just had to say how much I love this piece & everything it holds. I know where you’re coming from and “unrest” is the perfect word to encapsulate that sort of gnawing, worrying feeling that creeps up on you when you least expect it.
I think part of it stems from seeing our own mortality. We’re not starting it in the face, but it does pop up in our peripheral vision now and again. As we watch our children growing, we realize we’re still growing … or “un-growing” as the case may be – sliding down the other side of The Hill, as it were.
I hope to never lose my drive to create, learn, and explore; but – at the same time – I hope to gain the wisdom that allows me to stop once in a while and just bask in what I’ve already accomplished and all the “riches” (of the non-monetary type) I have in my life – all the love, the little moments, and the small pleasures.
Thanks for the reminder. Beautifully and honestly written.
What a great find on this Mother’s Day! Thank you for writing and for sharing this beautiful piece. I agree, you should absolutely submit to the ny times. My baby girl is only 12 months and 2 weeks old, but I grasp what you’re saying and you say it wonderfully. Thanks again.
Welcome, Dylan! Happy Mother’s Day to you. And, thank you so much for reading and commenting.