I try to run from this kind of emotion on an almost daily basis. The feeling of being so completely upside down, inside out and lost that just driving on a familiar road feels like a destination I’m trying so hard to find.
It’s not 100% until mid December but it’s about as official as it’s going to get until then … we’re in the process of selling the home we were building. Meaning … we’re no longer going to be moving. We’re no longer going to live there.
The house was almost ready for cabinets, trim and flooring. I was finally going to see what the colors I had picked out would look like together – it was all coming together and then, it all stopped.
Landscaping halted. Meetings happened. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
This is what we originally wanted when we went to sell our house last spring. To be non-dependent on a home, mortgage, yard and everything that comes with it. We wanted to travel … save money and then, after really thinking through our next decision, buy or build another house – some where.
Not here. Maybe here. Somewhere else? Maybe a different town, different state. We were open to all possibilities.
Now here we are. Finally.
And I’m scared. I want TO KNOW what the hell is going to happen next. We have a daughter in school. Being unsettled is turing out to be harder than I thought. Not the kind of adventure I was expecting – but it’s not awful. It’s tremendous. It’s exciting. It’s everything we wanted and more. And then nothing at all.
It’s confusion. A little devastation. It’s a relief.
I understand, deep inside of me, that this is what we needed. What I needed. This kind of clearing, cleansing of plans or expectations. This kind of adventure and journey. This paving a path for our family … the only family I know.
It’s enlightening and I’m learning so much about myself and what my belief systems were, where they faulted, where I was wrong … when I was right.
Not only am I willing and in the process of completely stripping my life of stuff, possessions, materials, ideals and wants … I’m also completely rewriting what kind of parent, mother, friend, daughter and wife I am. Different. Very different.
But real. True.
God, it feels great to be honest about this. To say it here. To let it be. To make no apologies for not following some kind of rule to dictate me; for entirely bucking the system laid before me – admitting that I want nothing to do with it. That I was chasing a dead idea of a family I had no idea how to keep together. How to interact with, what to call it, where to name it. How to be this person I know that I am inside of those narrow and unforgiving walls of a past that I couldn’t escape from. Guilt. Shadows.
I have no idea what our future holds.
OH MY GOD!!!! I HAVE NO IDEA!!
We might sign a lease for a year, we might move to Colorado for a bit, we might do nothing at all. We might pack a midnight van and get the hell out of here.
I need distance right now. I’m craving a cocoon, hibernation. Would it snow already? I’m craving silence and the space to be allowed to wallow in. Privacy, where no one in miles can hear if I’m laughing or crying. I want to let go of myself and allow my husband to make me scream.
I want to be comfortable with these admissions. These ideas. This person.
And getting there? Is half the battle.
Now here we are. Open and waiting and ready for the charge.
I am no longer interested in climbing a hill I have no intention of claiming. Beauty, standards, the worlds vision/media’s message to me as a woman is that I should want pretty hair, a tight ass, thin legs and the perfect shade of rouge. That *this* lube will make me orgasm better and *those* shoes will tighten my thighs faster. My *2.3 children* will be happier in that family car, smarter with that little device, more ready with this book.
I believed it all and then I hated myself for failing every. single. time.
I just don’t care if you or my family or my inlaws understand our process. I just don’t care if people are worried about us or think we’ve lost it or are broke. We’re not! We have a rough idea of a plan but everything, EVERYTHING I ever said I would NEVER do … I have done.
You really should never say never. Check your tolerance … I found out mine was on empty.
This is my life.
We built a house. We’re selling it. We’re changing the name of the game for our lives. It’s time we learned to drive.