Two years ago, my life changed dramatically. It was not a change of my
choosing.
I never thought I would leave for a three day conference on the opposite
coast, and come home to find out that I lost a parent.
Gone.
Suddenly, irreversibly
gone.
Throughout last year, things just drifted by. Our whole family was on autopilot,
struggling to find our way through the fog of pain and uncertainty. A lot of
numbness... and tears.
This year, I decided to make some changes. Changes of
my own choosing. Some were big, others not so much.
The first small change kind of happened on its own… one day I realized that my
giveadamn is broken. I’m not going to fix it, either. If my social media posts offend you, unfollow me.
Go clutch at your pearls somewhere else. If
my occasional f-bomb gets under your skin, plug your ears or avert your eyes. I am no longer concerned if people find me good enough.
If I have to behave a certain way to be your
friend, or to be considered part of your “inner circle”, you’re done.
Toodles, poodles.
The second change, and most definitely the hardest, was that we pulled our
child out of a school that was failing him. Even though it was the only school
he’d ever known. Even though they claimed to have wonderful values and
outstanding curriculum.
As parents, we didn’t
feel welcome at events. Old gossip was allowed to fester, without a thought
given to its voracity. I have thick skin (now), and just put it down to small
minded people being assholes in their little cliques. I tolerated it because I
thought it was the best place for my son. It wasn’t until my child confided in
someone that he had been bullied, and was being shunned by his classmates. His only
friends were a couple grades below him. It broke my heart. So, we left.
Adios, muchachos.
Change number three… I finally closed the door on grad school.
Let’s face it – I’m just too damn old. My
employer doesn’t place much value on anything less than a doctorate, and the
cost (both financial and emotional) doesn’t appeal to someone who’s starting to
fantasize about retirement.
Yes, it was
hard to let go of that dream. But, it was time.
Menopause and midterms don’t mix.
Kind of like kale and chocolate…
Whether these were the right or wrong choices, only time will tell.
What I do know, without any doubt, is that right this minute, they were
my choices to make.
