Who would I be?
In the past couple of years, I’ve found myself on a strange journey to recapture the me I used to be. I’ve never liked the idea that one needs to find oneself, but I absolutely understand the idea that a person can get lost. I have, most definitely, been lost. Lost inside those early years of raising C where we bounced back and forth between specialists and therapies; years where my dearest friends were the therapists working with C. We shared a common goal of helping this child along his path in the best way possible, which probably explains the tightness of our bonds and why some of them remain strong all these years later.
In the years since C started school, I’ve slowly been working my way back to my own interests, although I admit to not being completely sure what those actually are any longer. Lofty goals such as traveling the world and writing great books have given way to watching Amazing Race and escaping into books other people have penned. A former desire to work at the Smithsonian has melted into not being sure I’d even care to work at the local history museum at this point. Just what is it I want to do with myself, my future, the rest of my life?
The entire issue of my sense of self hit me hard while sitting through what was, in my opinion, a terrible movie adaptation of the amazing book My Sister’s Keeper. At one point, the mother of the terminally ill child was asked who she thought she’d be if she weren’t fighting for her daughter. Recognizing that our situation is far less critical, I still asked myself the same question in that moment. The truth is, I’m not sure of the answer, but my sense is that I’ll figure it out. I am quite sure there’s a way to balance everything while still knowing who I am when I stand alone.