No, I'm no one's wife

For almost seven years, this verse in "All That Jazz" from the musical, "Chicago" was sort of my mantra.
"No, I'm no one's wife. But, oh, I love my life!"

In other words: I'm not married, and I'm ok with that!

I guess, now that I'm in my late 20s, and am about to be someone's wife, I'm noticing things I either didn't notice before, or just never paid much mind to. For instance (and, unfortunately, this is something I have been running into for several years now), the fact that I am almost 28 with no husband and no children, somehow makes me less...credible, I suppose? As a professional, an adult, and as a woman in general.

I am getting married in April of next year. By the time I change my name, the man I'm marrying and I will have been together for going on five years. I'm not ashamed of that fact; I'm actually proud of it. We decided this. Together. The two of us. There for a while, we even thought about not getting married at all. We would have had a happy life, committed to each other, raising a family, without becoming husband and wife. Separate last names forever, and that would have been just as ok with us. After a while, however, we did decide to get married because it was something we wanted to share with each other.

However, once we announced the wedding date (one year and four months after the engagement), then came the endless questions of "Why wait so long?" "You've been together so long already; why do you need such a long engagement?" Because we aren't in a hurry. Because for us, it isn't about being married; it's about being together. Of course I'm excited to be able to introduce him as my husband; of course I'm excited to sign with my new name, and check the box next to "Married". But, personally, I don't think that makes me any more valuable to society than I already am...

When I was vying for a promotion at a previous job, my boss at the time told me that I was going to struggle more in that position than the other candidates, specifically because I was younger, single, and had no children. He told me customers would have a hard time taking me seriously and relating to me - and vice versa - because I wouldn't know what it's like to have a family. He - jokingly, though I believe it was only half-jokingly - told me I should get married & have a couple kids, then come back. Har har har.

For the record, I did get that promotion, and I never once lost a costumer due to being neither a mother nor married.

Even today, however, more than three years later, this is something I'm still running into. You know what is perhaps the worst part? The majority of this judgmental pressure comes from my friends (*NOTE not all of my friends; just some. And no, I will not be naming names, or offering reassurance as to whether you - the reader - are or are not one of these said-friends. If you're guilty of this, I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself. Further more, I'm sure it's something we have discussed, and hopefully reached a truce).

When I was sixteen, I made myself a promise: I would not get married before I was 23, and - if I had anything to say about it - I would not become a mother before I was 25. This was a decision I firmly stood by - and successfully navigated - because I knew it was the right one for me. I wanted the chance to explore the world a little, find my place in it, and gain a firm sense of who I was in my own right before I had someone else utterly dependent on me. To be fair, I do see some benefits to being a younger parent, but - obviously - the benefits did not outweigh the cost in my particular case and opinion.

That being said, I find it incredibly insensitive and irritating when someone - friend or stranger - spends a significant amount of time trying to convince me that being a younger parent is infinitely better than being what they'd consider an "older" parent. It worked for you; that's great. I'm very happy for you and the fact that you are satisfied with your life choices. So, why do you feel the need to tear apart mine? Obviously it is too late for me to ever be a young parent, even if that were something I desired. So you telling me that I'm taking too long to have kids, or that I need to get a move on it before I'm 30, or that I won't have any energy to keep up with them, or that I'll never know my grandchildren, is really just mean. You are standing there, criticizing the choices I have made for myself and my life, for no reason other than the simple fact that they are different from yours.

I will turn 28 without any children, and without any marriages. But I will have 28 years of uninterrupted life experience; a Bachelor's degree from a University; three years of experience in my job field; steady and stable employment with plenty of opportunity for advancement; and a solid, supportive home life. These facts don't make me any better, or any worse than anyone who is married and/or a parent. They are just facts, pure and simple.

And yes, I love my life.

"Warrior"

Ever had a story in your head that won't leave you alone? I've been thinking about this one for a couple weeks now, so I decided to leap back into the writing pool with this short piece. That is all. Enjoy.

He looked up at the sound of her laughing, and watched as she vigorously rubbed their puppy’s neck and ears, thanking the pup in a ridiculous voice for his slobbery kisses.

She looked so happy, and…at peace. Their earlier conversation flashed through his mind, and he couldn’t help replaying her words in his head. Quite frankly, it bothered him how cavalier she was about what had happened to her; that she could just bring it up in casual conversation like it was any other event. But it had taken her five years to reach this point; surely he couldn’t begrudge her wanting to acknowledge it now and then.

It wasn’t as though it didn’t faze her at all anymore; they slept in the same bed each night, and he was all too familiar with the nightmares that still came out of the dark to terrorize her unconscious. But he understood the desire to transform something horrible into just another everyday fact. Like hitting puberty and discovering hair in places it had never been before; something that happened to you without your permission. You can’t change it, so you do your best to adapt, to accept it as part of yourself and learn to live with it.

His breath caught at the thought of just how hard it must have been for her to accept what had been done to her, to learn to live with that as a fact of her life. He’d come into her life just over a year after, and while he wouldn’t have called her broken, there had been a shadow behind her eyes; a tremor hidden her voice over the phone. She’d concealed it well, even from him, but one scarred soul always recognized another.
He’d always known it would take someone with a stubborn streak and a patient heart to reach him again. He found all that and more in her. Her fire melted his resolve, and her touch soothed his temper. He’d given her someone to lean on and taught her to confront her demons; she’d given him sincerity and taught him peace. In the end, the two of them had helped heal each other.

As he looked at her now, smiling brightly, her eyes clear and voice strong, he felt a sudden swell of pride. His woman was a warrior.

Voluntarily Unemployed

This month alone, I have left two jobs. Good jobs. Stable jobs. Jobs that just...weren't right for me. For the first time in 14 years, I am voluntarily unemployed.

I won't lie...it's a little scary.

The closest I've ever been to this situation was in late December of '09 when I was told I would be laid-off from my job at Earl May for several months. I tried to find another job during that time; something temporary since I knew Earl May would rehire me in March (which they did). So, I spent most of January and February indulging in some me-time. That, however, was different. I knew I had a job waiting for me; I knew I would only be unemployed for a specific amount of time, and I didn't have half as many financial responsibilities to budget for at that time.

Now here I am; 27 years old with bills and loans and payments to make...and a world of opportunities at my feet. For the first time ever, I am in a position to find the job I want, to think about my options before jumping into another career. As I said before, it is scary, but it's also rather invigorating. I feel surprisingly at ease and filled with a new-found sense of excitement at my current situation.

Yes, I could have stayed on at my newest job longer and given it a better shot, but I know me. I know that, when I get something in my head, it is almost impossible to change my own mind (I imagine there are several people who can back me up on that point). I know that, if I have already decided it isn't the right fit for me, I'm not going to give it my all, and that wouldn't be fair to the clients or coworkers. The news of my abrupt departure wasn't as well-received as I had hoped, but I suppose I can't really blame them for that; it's never easy or fun to hear that someone you just put through two weeks of training has suddenly changed their mind and is leaving you out of the blue.

I am not going to go into details about precisely why I decided to leave, but before the speculation can escalate, let me just say that no; it was not because I felt overwhelmed or that I had gotten in over my head (as I feared may be the case). The job simply didn't turn out to be what I thought it would be, and I knew I wouldn't be happy doing it for very long. So, I decided it would be best to leave sooner rather than later, before I had established rapport with clients and taken on a full caseload. Maybe I was wrong, but the decision felt--and still feels--right.

So, once again, here I am. Employers of the Kearney-area, be aware; this fox is officially on the hunt.

In a Most Delightful Way

I love origins stories. And I've loved Disney since before I can remember. So it's only natural that I would find a reason to see the latest combination of the two. I have to say, however, in all honesty, I really didn't expect it to...inspire such a reaction from me.

Walking out of the theater this evening after watching Saving Mr. Banks, I felt...light, and warm, and inspired. You remember that feeling when you were a kid; when you would tilt your head back, stretch out your arms, close your eyes, and take a deep breath in? It felt like, if you stayed that way long enough, you would float right up into the clouds and drift along in a heavenly blissful state. It was kind of like that, for lack of a better explanation (and had it not been so bloody cold outside, I may have been tempted to do exactly what I just described).

I have always, always loved Mary Poppins, and watching the story of how it came to be brought back all kinds of fond musings; memories I hadn't thought about in years. I suddenly remembered the first time I ever saw the film...

I was about 4 or 5, maybe even 3, we were visiting Grammy and Granddad in Thedford when Grammy put in a movie for us younger grandchildren to watch before bedtime. I was fascinated from the beginning! Drawings you can step into? Dancing penguins?? Merry-go-round horses that came to life??? It was all so purely fantastic!

After that, I distinctly remember asking my mom if we could watch "the movie with the horses and the dancing penguins" again and again. That Christmas, Grammy & Granddad sent us home with a special gift; our very own copy of Mary Poppins. I would twirl around the living room, singing aloud with every song... "Chim-chiminey, chim-chiminey, chim-chim cha-ree..." "Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go dooown, medicine go down..." "Step in time, step in time, step in time, step in time, never need a reason, never need a rhyme, step in time, we step in time..."

And of course there was the matter of being able to fly simply by holding onto an umbrella. I really have no idea how many times I jumped off the top of our swing-set, eyes squeezed shut, clutching my "magic" umbrella, just sure that this time, I would open my eyes to find myself sailing above the trees and looking down on the roof of our house. I'm fairly certain we three children ruined several perfectly good umbrellas in this process, especially when the idea occurred to us that all we needed some wind to give us a boost! Luckily, our parents were patient, and our mom was very good at sewing patches onto our clothes.

Driving home tonight, I felt that little-kid-magic again. The full moon lighting up the land, the patchy clouds moving over the night sky, even a car turning down an old dirt road...it was like I stepped through one of Burt's chalk drawings into my own fantasy world. It was like I grabbed ahold of the magic umbrella and was gently sailing over the land, with all the passersby below completely unaware.

Watching Mary Poppins with Grammy is one of my favorite childhood memories, and someday, I hope I get to watch my own children jump off the swing-set with an umbrella in their hands, and I hope I get to cuddle up with my grandchildren and watch their eyes go wide with wonder when they jump through the chalk drawing and the horses leap from the merry-go-round.

So, even though I know no one with any ties to either Walt Disney or P.L. Travers will ever read my little blog entry, I just wanted to express a sincere thank you to both of them for effecting my childhood "in a most delightful waaaaay!"