Through the Looking Glass

As long as I can remember, I’ve been waiting for that next step in my life that would finally get me to a place of happiness. When I was young, it was moving out of my parents house. When I was in college, it was wanting to move away from my home town. After moving, I thought I would be happy when I found a guy and got married. Done and done. We bought a house, “settled down” and cohabitated for a few years.

Still feeling unfulfilled and hoping to create something worth-while, I had a baby. Of course I loved her, but I still felt like I was playing the part of a role I had been cast for, not living that life that I had been planning out for myself all those years.

Something was missing.

Somehow, along the way, I had convinced myself that if I just followed the blueprint for the American Dream, everything would work itself out and I would be happy eventually.

I trudged on. Another baby, two dogs, a house, nice cars, decent money coming in, vacations. What was I doing wrong? Why wasn’t I happy yet?

I remember a time when I was so optimistic that being an adult would solve all my problems. Over the years my angst had been replaced by apathy, dreams replaced with disillusion.

I was becoming so detached from this person I was turning into, trading in my band t-shirts for blouses that I didn’t really like, taking out my piercings and suppressing my thoughts and ideas for lack of people in my life who cared about anything other than brainless consumerism. I could feel a divide between myself and every single person I knew. I didn’t really like my friends, they probably didn’t really like me either. I felt out of place in this town so far from where I was from.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I felt betrayed. I can’t tell you who exactly I was mad at, maybe the media which had portrayed this glamorous portrait of how the twenty-something’s lived. Maybe at myself for becoming complacent. Either way, I was tired of charade. I was done patching up relationships that were unfulfilling and eventually my marriage crumbled. I think, by the end, neither of us cared that we were separating.

So now, I essentially get to start over and find that happiness I’ve been looking for all these years… but where do I start. How do you get back that person that you were before you became a cog in the machine?

I’ve decided to stop apologizing for who I am. I am a nerdy, awkward, sarcastic, and maybe a bit naïve girl. I still believe there is magic in the world I still believe that happiness is out there. I’ve seen it, even felt it.

And so, with that, I welcome you to my “Adventures in Awkwardland” as I try to navigate my way through making sense of this thing called life.

 

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