Reflecting, Resting, and Celebrating My World

If you read my last post, it was embarrassing but I needed to be honest with myself and confront my feelings. I'm not convinced it was a good or even decent post, but I wrote it and hit the publish button anyway. And now this post is a rambling road of meandering thoughts. Buckle up! Lol.

I like to read what Nedra Glover Tawwab writes and a question she posed recently was, "What do you feel entitled to?" I've kept it simmering in the back of my mind. And, I think something I feel entitled to is an easy relationship with my parents. I mean, they did their part (raised me with love, resources, and experiences), and I did my part (grew up, worked hard, and created a financially independent and sustainable life I enjoy). So why can't we just get along easily? 

Well, because it's not that simple. Nothing is. Everything is so layered and nuanced.

So I'll continue to notice and reflect. Change what I can, and practice accepting what I can't. 

So yeah, reflection... December is a good time for that. 

And in my reflection this morning I realized something: I was going through my first round of IVF this time of year ten years ago. Holy shit. How can ten years feel so recent and also so long ago?

I'm not going to regurgitate for the millionth time everything that's happened in the last ten years.

But I did take a moment to picture my life in a snapshot then and my life in a snapshot now.

Then: living in the beautiful house I bought for my children. Lost, vacant, empty... Lonely. Bored. Profoundly sad. Feeling traumatic loss and deep grief but not knowing that's what I was feeling. Didn't understand it, didn't have words for it, certainly had no support for it. Terrified.

Now: living in an old house I bought for myself. Warm, cozy, content... Thankful, proud, relieved. Enjoying the little things. Excited about the quilts I want to make. Resting for an extended period like the rest of my life depends on it because it does. 

Speaking of rest... Why is it so counterculture to rest? In one way, it's kind of trendy. "Live simply! Do less!" In another way, it's totally judged. "Oh, you have time for a nap? Must be nice." Why do other people want me to be busy? I've been busy my whole life and, while I've gained a lot of education and experience, how has being busy ever benefited my health, relationship to myself, or social connections?

Going through IVF ten years ago was horrible. Talk about being busy! The whole process is constant injections, blood draws, and ultrasounds. And that's just the physical part. There's also dealing with your own feelings and expecations, not to mention everyone else's feelings and expectations. It's too much to get into right now because I left all that behind for many reasons.

I couldn't fast forward through the last ten years, but I'm glad to be on this side of things now.

I like the life I've created for myself. I was reminded again yesterday when I went to the dentist. I ran into an acquaintance there who said she'd been meaning to get together but has been so busy with her kids. Then the dental hygienist was making small talk and, as a former teacher, I can easily banter about kids, school, and the ups and downs of it all. The hygienist was not complaining, but I could tell she was stressed. Parents need so much more support than they get. (But that's not what this blog is about! Lol.)

With those two conversations, I felt like I was living in the Parenting World for about an hour. And it felt really different. There were different routines, schedules, demands, and concerns. It's honestly pretty much completely different from my life. One isn't better or easier than the other. They are just different.

It just showed me how much my hard work has paid off. I didn't get to have kids, so I didn't make myself stay in that world. I created a life that I want to live, a life that works for me and my circumstances. I posted this quote on one of my first posts, but back then it was a process I was working through. It really rings true now.

Infantilizing Childless Women

My family isn't very nice to me. 

There. I said it.

I'm 45 years old and I am constantly criticized for all of my choices: where I live, what I do for work, who I choose as my partner, and how I spend my time. At this point, it is absolutely ridiculous. I am fine. I'm employed. I pay my bills. I am kind. I have hobbies. I volunteer. 

But I don't need to tell you all of this. I don't even need to tell myself. 

I am enough and I don't need to explain my existence or reasoning. 

It's just really, really sad.

I woke up in a bit of a funk yesterday morning. I knew my extended family was gathering for the holidays yesterday, but I chose to take care of myself, not travel, and stay home. I don't regret my decision, but I still missed seeing my cousins. I called my parents to visit and my mom was so mean. She's the kind of person that will insult you and then tell you, "You're overthinking it," when you call her out on it. That is exactly what happened yesterday. I tried not to let it, but it really soured my day. I am a high achieving, accomplished adult, and I am treated like I am an ignorant teenager making bad choices. It's beyond annoying.

I feel like I'm constantly having realizations about my relationships with my family members and learning how to interact differently. But it's a neverending evolution apparently. Hopefully, I learned some new things yesterday because I am really tired of feeling like a hurt and misunderstood kid.

Do I go low contact? I've tried every other strategy so far. I've done nothing wrong. But I am still insulted. My life and my choices are not respected. How my life is and how I am treated by my family is completely incongruous.

Is it because I'm not married? Because I don't have kids? Because I'm the youngest?

I thought as my niece and nephew grew up, the family would realize I was also growing up. But my young adult niece and nephew seem to have surpassed me in the family. They are not criticized for where they live or what they do. It is really, really, really fucking weird.

I am glad I stayed home this weekend. I am glad I did the best I could to take care of myself. I am sorry that I hung up the phone yesterday and continued to replay all of the criticisms lobbed at me on repeat in my head all day. I tried writing a letter to myself in my head telling myself all of the things I wanted to hear. 

I don't know what else to do. I feel like I cannot deal with this anymore. It's not good for me.

It's not right, and it's not fair. I survived my worst nightmare. I don't have kids after planning for them and structuring my entire life around having them. I've been through so much stress and dealt with so much grief: infertility, failed treatments, moving, divorce, a pandemic. I know I've done an amazing, awesome job, but I don't want to have to tell my parents that anymore. It should be the other way around. They should be telling me, not me trying to convince them. 

Did I mention that I'm 45??

And it's not like I'm trying to explain myself. It just happens in conversation. My mom will ask what I've been up to this week, I'll share things like "working and sewing," and whatever I say is always the wrong thing. Wrong job, wrong hobby. It's. So. Bizarre.

When I was a kid and she was mad at me, my mother used to smirk and tell me all the time, "I hope you grow up and have a daughter just like you." And to my credit, I would say, "Me too. Then at least someone in my life would make sense."

Yesterday was just another day in my life with my parents. But just like the acquaintance I wrote about in my last post (the "I know you don't want to see any newborn pictures, but do you want to see just one?" lady), people will say the weirdest shit to me. And out of all of the venting I did to my boyfriend yesterday, I still didn't even tell him the most hurtful thing my mom said. (He is so over it. I was grateful that he was listening to me, but I also wanted to spare him.)

Yesterday my mother said to me, "I know you don't like to hear this. But, as a parent, that's just how it [parenting] is." My MOM tried to parent-splain (that's my version of "mansplain") her treatment of me, her middle aged daughter, as reasonable because she claimed that's how parenting is while simultaneously referencing the fact that I have no children and inferring that I don't know what it's like. 

😳

Wow, lady. 

Just wow.

A Preemptive Text

I have an acquaintance who was about to become a grandmother. She was, understandably, very excited about it. I thought about the previous year when her oldest child got married. She was very excited about that too. She shared hundreds of wedding pictures with me, which I didn't mind. She was excited, the pictures were pretty, and it was a very happy event.

But I thought about those hundreds of wedding pictures of people I will never meet when she sent out a group text that the baby was born and all went well. Mother and baby were healthy.

I know myself. I know that newborn pics, especially where the new mom is holding the newborn, are hard for me. I limit myself to pictures of only people I care about, not people I don't even know. I thought I better get ahead of this.

So I sent her a preemptive text message. I wrote, "Congrats on grandmotherhood!! I'll have to catch you beforehand and request that you don't send me any newborn pics. I can explain in person if you're curious. Thank you!"

I felt kind of proud of myself. It was a polite text that didn't overshare. I didn't feel self-conscious for writing or sending it. I was glad I had the idea and sent it before I was bombarded with pics.

And do you know what this acquaintance said the first time I saw her when she got back in town?

She literally said, "I know you said you didn't want to see any newborn pictures, but do you want to see just one?"

"No" was my swift, immediate, and one-word reply. 

What the hell?? Someone sends you a text like that and you still try to show them baby pictures? She has no idea what my experiences are, and she obviously doesn't care. Or, she at least didn't stop and think for even one second.

My flat reply made another friend laugh. She was right there, knows my story, knows this acquaintance, and laughed out loud at my immediate "no." I did not feel laughed AT. I felt empowered. I said no, did not explain myself, and could not possibly have cared any less.

Geeez, what a clueless acquaintance!