Who Am I?

     

       I’ve lost something and I don’t know if I’ll ever find it again. I’ve lost myself. I hear from other Moms that once they have kids, they change and no longer recognize the person they used to be. I get that, kind of a big lifestyle change there. I’m also pushing *ahem* 40, another big deal milestone. I definitely no longer blend in with the college kids in the crowd.

            Here’s my deal, though, I still FEEL like myself. I still want to be that carefree, fun, happy person I was in my 20s. I want to pack up at the spur of the moment and run away for the weekend. I don’t even mean that I want to leave my son, he could come too! I just don’t do it I guess. There are bills to pay and dishes to do, laundry to be folded and meals to be made. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t do those either, but the NEED to do them keeps me grounded and at home.

            I don’t mind the responsibilities. I like the routine we have, but I don’t feel fun anymore. I don’t feel happy and free. I am content, I am secure, I am stable. Maybe that’s what I need now, in my 40s, but it’s not who I used to be. I was the free-spirit. I was the one who packed everything in my old Chevy and moved from the Midwest to LA on the spur of the moment. I was going to be a big deal.

            Now I wrestle with the person I was and the person I have become. They are very different. I never wanted to be the person I am now. I never wanted the house with a white picket fence and 2.8 kids and a dog. (No, I don’t know how you have 8/10 of a kid, still working on that one!) I like me, though, but younger me keeps rebelling against older me because she didn’t want that life for herself. But now that I have it, and don’t mind, I feel like I might be betraying that young woman with stars in her eyes and dreams constantly evolving. Know what I dream about now? Magical elves who come in while I’m sleeping and clean my bathroom and dust my cobwebs. Yep, my dreams have evolved from superstardom to housekeeping. Even my fantasies are boring.

            But, is it really boring to take care of the ones you love? I’m not bored when I help my son with his homework. I enjoy watching him learn new things and I love the way his eyes light up when he suddenly gets something he was struggling with. I love picking him up after school and the hug I get when he starts telling me about his day. I love going to the zoo and for a bike ride and watching him play with the other kids in the neighborhood. These things are enough for middle-aged me. Younger me doesn’t like it though, and I can’t get her to shut up. She was always very persistent.

            How are you supposed to reconcile the person you once were with the person you’ve become when they are very, very different? Post-divorce, I’m in the middle of re-inventing myself, and I just don’t know who I am anymore. Am I too old to be having this kind of crisis, or is this the dreaded mid-life crisis I’ve always been convinced I’d never get old enough to have? Should I go out and buy a red Corvette? Should I just embrace my yoga pants and glass of wine while I binge watch the newest season of House of Cards?

            There must be a way to balance that carefree youth with the responsibilities of adulthood. There must be a way to keep part of that dreamer alive as the daily routine of raising a family becomes paramount. There must be a way to stay true to our younger selves while we embrace our maturity. While I figure it out, why don’t you come over with a bottle of wine and I’ll link up the Netflix?