Single Mom Life: Dreaming

I have been doing a lot of dreaming lately.  In my daily life. In my meditations.  I am dreaming of my future and I am dreaming about my past.

The other night my BF and I were at an Ugly Sweater party.  He is about seven years younger, so much of the party was made up of twenty-somethings and early thirty types.  They are at the beginning of their real journey. I say real journey because when I was in my late 20’s, I felt like I knew what life was about. I thought I understood the pitfalls and the trials that life could throw at any given moment. Though life didn’t always make sense to me, I believed I at least had it somewhat figured out.  The twenty-somethings and early thirty types were all talking about their future plans.  One young woman was excited but nervous about moving in with her boyfriend of six years.

“I just don’t know,” she said.  “What if we move in together and it ruins everything.”

I interjected, “No, don’t worry. Moving into together doesn’t ruin things.  Having children ruins everything.”  The room fell silent.  Even conversations that were happening in the way back of the room seemed to stop and listen in to my negativity.  At the time, I felt justified in my bluntness.  They need to hear it, I thought.  It was later in the car when my BF and I were talking about it when turned to me and said, “You know, you might want to think about not saying that to people.”  I was hurt, so I fired back defensively.

“Why not?  They need to hear it. No one told me, and they need to know.”

“So this is your job now?  Warning younger people about the dangers of marriage and kids.  Do you really believe you need to do that?”  He wasn’t being mean.  He was saying it kindly.  I could feel it on him, but I was embarrassed and hurt.

“No one told me. No one told me how hard it was going to be.  No one warned me that my entire life was going to fall apart and I was going to have to rebuild from nothing.  I am trying to tell them.  I want them to know that it can all go bad.  One wrong move turns into two and then resentment because your husband doesn’t empty the dishwasher becomes a lawyer drafting a divorce agreement.”

“Kelly,” he stilled said in a very loving voice.  “It doesn’t always end that way.”  I started to cry.  I felt pathetic and small and angry.

“Well, it ended that way for me,” I said as tears dripped down my cheeks.

“And look where it got you,” he picked up my hand that he was holding and gently kissed the top.  This is our universal sign of love even when we are fighting.  If we do that, the other knows that it is ultimately okay.

Yes, I did lose it all. I threw it to the wind and started again, and now I am someplace wonderful headed towards even better.

I am glad that I never stopped dreaming.