Something’s Missing

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I had a pity party this Easter weekend – I was incredibly workout-sore and ultra sick and knew I wasn’t going to be hanging with the family so I took to the Bravo channel’s “Criminal Minds” marathon.  Let’s be serious, Mandy Patinkin and Thomas Gibson for 72 hours is exactly what my prescription outlined. Y’all can take your Spencers and Morgans and get outta here!  *single blink* But I digress…

I was hungry but didn’t feel like cooking. I was lazy and let the dishes stay where they were until really early Sunday morning. I washed a few pots and utensils and made a delicious 2AM meal.  I was using an IKEA teaspoon to put some rice in my bowl and didn’t even realize I was crying into the rice cooker!  Shocked, I put the bowl down and took a couple steps away from the counter to figure out what kind of non-postpartum was happening to me. I felt…

Wrong

It didn’t take me long to pinpoint the feelings of despair. It may sound old-fashioned but despite what you may think/know about me, I’m incredibly old-fashioned in many ways when it comes to how I see myself in a relationship. You rarely hear it these days because it’s not the world we live in anymore or women feel it makes them sound less independent or strong: but I know I’m supposed to be a wife and mother.  I don’t mean “exclusively” or that my life is nothing and I don’t have goals I’m working toward. I simply mean what I say. When I was younger I remember having a dream and seeing my son (I don’t know how I knew he was mine, but I just knew) sitting on the piano bench in my grandparent’s family room. Just sitting there, smiling me.  It was one of the most vivid dreams I ever had. I can’t deny I never thought about my wedding, but more than that, I thought about the marriage, the bond so few of us are lucky enough to find. I come from a broken home and while I had a great upbringing with a father who raised me and a mother I could see whenever I wanted; I didn’t fear the idea of marriage like a lot of latchkey kids whose parents are no longer together. DIGRESSING AGAIN.

Basically, in the moment where I was pathetically teaspooning my single serving of rice into a plastic bowl, I was really missing something I’ve never had. I thought about how often I wish I was serving dinner to my husband and kids at our dinner table. It broke my heart in that very instant. I realize I take care of myself even more when I’m looking after someone. I keep a tidier home, I want to entertain more, I live for tucking people in and making sure they’re okay.  When it’s just me, I let things go for really no reason. I am tickled with the idea of having a family who will exhaust me to a point of no return and I can’t wait for that to happen. It’s in me to be maternal – I’ve always had it and I believe I always will. Ironically, I have friends, a sibling, nieces and nephews, parents and grandparents whom I neglect and push away more often than not to remain alone. I love them all to pieces in completely different ways. It’s a strange, confusing fight I have in my mind, something I constantly battle with. It’s hard to explain why, but I know why I do this. I know it has to do with pride and sometimes shame but in some twisted capacity. If I ever find the words, it may be a future post.

These are not the rambling thoughts of someone who thinks a man or a baby will complete them or who doesn’t see the obvious. There’s a ton I need to work on within myself before I’ll be ready to start my own family. It was just a split-second reaction to something that creeps into my mind every so often. My heart doesn’t have an empty space; it’s so full, it’s overflowing and seeking something large enough to catch the run-off. Being single and childless has it’s amazing upside and advantages, but when it’s been the majority of your existence, well…… *shrugs*  It’s just never been favourite thing.  These longings of mine come from a place that understands I’ve got a lot to offer the right person and really hope I gets that opportunity in this lifetime.

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