This is an experimental exercise in free writing. Some of my posts feel constrained, I just wanted to have a little fun… As a result, this isn’t my typical “post with a message.” It’s just me, writing.
Make of it what you will.
Those who knew me in high school knew this: I wasn’t afraid to admit what I wanted. Whether it was becoming a network news anchor or going to law school and becoming an international correspondent, nothing foreseeable was going to get in my way.
But, there was a secret I dreamt of even more than sitting beside Matt Lauer: I wanted to have a family of my own.
That’s counterintuitive isn’t it? Wouldn’t it seem that those lofty career ambitions are more embarrassing to admit than my dreams of having a husband and kids?
To me, owning up to my goals of having a family was scary, because it required the commitment of another person. And, I just didn’t imagine anyone wanting to spend his life with me. (Remember, I was a teenager… It was normal to be so cynical.)
For the first two years of college, I continued to hide behind my professional aspirations.
To some extent, saying I wanted to be a famous journalist was like an excuse for every failed relationship: “It’s fine. He was just intimidated by my goals.” But it still hurt.
There were a few people I opened up to about this. A best friend who was also in the Honors Program and was similarly ambitious, spent many lunches eating pita sandwiches and talking about what we really wanted in life. My mom, who still remembered the days when I claimed to want 100 children…
To most people, though, I was just that driven student.
Then I sunk into the deep, dark hole of an eating disorder — and I finally admitted that I couldn’t do everything on my own. I needed my family. I need my friends. I needed the accept my own vulnerability in order ever have a chance at love.
Funny how some of the worst moments in life can lead to the best things, isn’t it?
When I met Dan and we decided to get married during college, some people thought I was sacrificing a dream. In truth, I was realizing it. (I knew that all along, which is why the criticism never bothered me.)