I sometimes feel like my life is the movie of the week and I'm sitting on the couch watching it; able to predict what's going to happen next.
I suppose that happens when you make monumental decisions. I haven't grasped the enormity yet of what deciding to not have kids means to me. In the short term, it means peaceful, kid-free weekends every other week and trips to Oregon, Austin and France all within 3 months. In the long term, it means not passing my genetic code on to anyone else or any hand-me-down memories I may have wanted to preserve within my own biological child. It means my last will and testament will list my cat as my sole remaining heir.
My friendships have changed, too. People I used to talk to every other day I barely hear from now. Marriages, kids, relationships and new jobs will do that. I'm entering that next phase in my life, the one where I have friends that I'll do girls' weekends with on the shore...even if the closest shore is Lake Michigan. I read about those girls' weekends in magazines. They always sound so divine.
In my relationships, I've turned into the person that says "yes, okay" all the time. It's easier to do that right now than to argue. Fighting takes too much energy. I don't mention my haircuts or my career highs because I'm tired of being disappointed when others aren't as quick to notice or get as excited as I do. I've kept things to myself lately because it's easier that way. Most people don't notice that you've stopped mentioning those things. They weren't listening anyway.
I've developed this acute illness that drags me down, makes me really tired and achey in my chest a lot of the time. It's only been a couple of weeks, but I feel much older than my 32 years. It's probably just indigestion, but it feels like heart disease. Luckily, I have a doctor's appointment on Monday.
This isn't the Erin I'll be in 5 years or in 10. It's a phase I'm going through. Yes kids, even in your 30s you go through phases. I'll look back at this time in my life and remember when I could feel the clock ticking, slowly, as I waited for my next phase of life to begin.
I can see things about myself that I know won't be the same. Whether I chose to change them now or later is up to me; it's all part of that turning point...To borrow the words from the guys in Green Day:
"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time"