The Big Picture

This is not what I dreamed my life would look like. Somehow it’s more than I ever knew to dream for.

That’s not to say ‘all my dreams have come true.’ They are still a few left to realize. Reality is just more than I knew what to hope for. I stand on a path I would not have chosen then I started, but the joy that I now look at, has made the journey more meaningful.

Not every bump has worth. Most were the result of the choices I made with consequences less than I desired. There is not always worth in things that bring one pain, anger, or humiliation. But there are always lessons in those bumps if one slows down long enough to be taught. Things that can be applied as the path leads on, to avoid future bumps. Some bumps are bigger than others. But I have surprised myself with how few still stick out. There are even a few that I take some pride in. Those are the bumps that have been worth it.

But right now, I am not thinking about those bumps from the past. I am only thinking about a few that may lie ahead and how I can prepare for them. I am thinking of these bumps with excitement. I know they will be there. I know there will be much to learn from them. But these bumps mean something amazing has happened for them to be a possibility.

I’m not trying to sound as cliché as I think I am being. I have certainly not been wandering lost through a deep dark wood. The path has been taking more twists and turns, and there has been more shade than I would like. But the beauty of shade: you can always still see the light. It was always there guiding me, I just had to press on to get to it. I never dreamed this path would be straight; just maybe that I would be able to anticipate more of the twists and see more of the turns before they actually happened. I like to plan things out. I like to know where I am going and when. I like to be in control. I don’t like the unexpected. It knots my stomach like a pretzel. I get disoriented and disgruntled. I try to handle it as best as I can, taking as few casualties as possible. Grinning and bearing it is an art form for me, one I try hard to paint. I think this is why things seem to be better than I knew to dream.

Every little girl has a dream about what they want their future to look like. It’s always been hard to reconcile when something in that dream had to change for me. I have always been driven to see it all come true exactly as I imagined it. I have always been a planner. This is why it’s so funny that I am never on time. Sometimes I am too busy planning it out, that it never gets done. But for me, there always comes a time when the dream and reality must be weighed.
At this point in my life I dreamed I would be married and at least planning (see, that word again) on starting a family. I dreamed on a home with a yard and of course a dog. I dreamed of a good job I enjoy doing making a wage to make the rest of the dream possible. I dreamed I would have a partner who would share my ups and downs. A partner who would share in the emotional and financial responsibility of this dream. A nice rosy picture huh? The further I journey, the more this ‘dream’ no longer sounds ideal. This ‘dream’ is so not there I am.

So what is my reality? My reality is that I have, by societal standards, failed at the relationship part. Lots could (and have) been said about the only two long term, emotionally mature relationships I have been in. But to me fail is a strong word. I haven’t failed. They may not have made it to my reality, but each of them has lead to a greater understanding of who I am and how I function in a relationship. I have learned that sometimes you grown in different directions than your partner and ultimately the relationship must end for the health of both people involved. That is not necessarily anyone’s fault. The failure comes when you fail to recognize it and you cease to grow. My reality is that I am surrounded by people who love me. Friends and family who emotionally support me daily and will always be available to help lessen the burdens. I have people who share and empathize with my ups and downs, and let me share in theirs. I don’t need to be attached to any one person to find that reality.

My reality is that I have no children. I am not planning on having children anytime in the immediate future nor to I anticipate that to change for quite some time. My reality is that I don’t need to give birth to have children or for my life to have meaning to a child. I volunteer with children and youth on a weekly basis. They remember my name. They smile and greet me when they see me; even when in public. I know I have made a connection. That makes me feel good. I have a niece that thinks the world of me, and I would do anything for her. I have a godchild that I get to spoil and love. I get to watch them grow and forever be a part of them. My friends have children. I get to love and play with them. I get to care for and about them without having to spend the sleepless nights. And I have a responsibility to live my life with dignity for each of them. They are my reminders to strive to be a better person. My life is surrounded by children. I get to be a role model without ever having to give birth.

My reality is I don’t own a dog, but I do have a dog. My sister came home with a cute, fuzzy little puppy (who was born 8 years ago today!) one summer day. The now 70 lbs, medium size dog has become the family dog. We are collectively her pack. She is a full member of the family with all rights there contained. She instinctively protects all of us, as we do her. She whines and wiggles at the top of the stairs when each of us walks through the door. Her needs are always considered when making decisions for the family. And in return, she loves out without conditions. There is something wonderful about the love of a dog. The unwavering trust. They joy at seeing you no matter the amount of time you have been away. It doesn’t matter I physically live with her or not, I am a part of Sammi’s pack. She is my dog.

My reality is that I don’t down a single family house with a cute little yard and a white picket fence (a little too Martha Stewart anyway). But soon, I will own my own house. And it will be my name on the mortgage. And only mine. I didn’t need someone else to make this a part of my reality. I did it on my own. I get the joy of painting the rooms the colors that I like. I get to pick out the flooring. I get to make the repairs, replace appliances, scrape popcorn off the ceilings, and keep things running smoothly. I am the only one I have to please with my choices. I never thought I would be able to do this on my own. It’s a huge responsibility, and a vast source of joy.

My reality is that I work for a company I can be proud to be a part of. I have co-workers who are helpful and willing to share their experience with me. I have the financial resources to make sure I can still dream. But most importantly, I have a job I enjoy going to. I am doing something worthwhile and have the support of those around me. I have been set up so that success if the only option. I may not be doing the work of my dreams, but I am working for the company of my dreams.

My reality is: I am happy.

My reality is only an alteration of my dreams. The elements all exist, just in a different way. I don’t need a partner for love and suport, I am surrounded by people who love me. I don’t need biological children, I have a vast number in my life already. I don’t need a big house with a big yard; I have a townhouse with a huge deck. I didn’t know to dream for any of this. It’s where the path has lead me. Those twists, turns, and bumps have lead to me to a place full of joy. I am prepared to handle the next leg of the journey. My patience and perseverance has been rewarded. And there are so many people to thank. I am grateful I don’t have to try and do it all alone.

I am not normally an openly optimistic person. Cautiously optimistic at best. But the need to slow down and do a reality check has been great. There have been so many changes in the last few months, with so many more on the way. Reflection and perspective are needed. I have had to let go of a lot and embrace so much. I like where I am. This is not what I would have thought happiness looked like. This is so different than I had hoped for, yet I can’t help but smile when I think of it all. I feel ready to tackle the next few dreams. I have opened my mind to the possibility that change isn’t always bad. Change is a better catalyst than planning. Losing control doesn’t mean having to give up, it means going with the flow until I find a better foothold. I still marvel over how everything is different, but still somehow where I wanted to be. This dream is far more than I knew it could be.