Life Out of Order
Do you know anyone who got married when they were an absolute infant? When their mental development and sophistication was that of a dumb little baby? No offense to the babies. But no one thinks little dumb little babies should get married.
I was a little dumb baby when I got married. I got engaged before I was old enough to drink legally, and I got married two weeks after college graduation and two months shy of my 22nd birthday. My memory is hazy, but I think they actually pushed me down the aisle in a stroller…long beautiful train trailing behind me. We had to make sure it didn’t get tangled up in the stroller wheels.
I did not come from a culture where I was taught that girls should just grow up and get married. I actually thought I was way too young to get married at the actual time I got married, but I believed I had found “the one.” And, unfortunately, I was brought up in a culture where my parents didn’t approve of “living in sin,” and I think I wanted to avoid the hassle of dealing with their disapproval — so I just got married like a little dumb baby would.
(Now, a deeply apologetic aside to all of this: I know many people who were married at 21 and even younger, and you all were not little dumb babies — OK, some of you were, but you know who you are. The rest of you picked the right person, you made it work, you are wise and your life is enriched because of the marriage, and you are happy to tell the tale today! I see you, I believe you, and I applaud you. This marriage stuff is not for the faint of heart. I am not casting any aspersions on your judgment or your decision.)
I, however, was a child getting married.
As a result of this decision, my spouse and I were immediately thrust into the position of having to rent a house and pay for our dog, when neither of us had a source of gainful employment. I was an English major! As you can imagine, the money was rolling in. So, I spent long hours working unfulfilling and unlucrative jobs (receptionist — “Good morning, Innovative Underwriters! How can I help you?” — technical writer for a terrible employer — customer service representative for a southern magazine where a lady mailed us her used pantyhose just in case we wanted to use them for a craft project — but I digress), and my then husband and I were left shrugging our shoulders in an “I dunno” fashion when we looked at our future.
In the academic world, I was smart. That’s all we really knew about my career prospects. My husband was born to be a teacher (he, being 8 years older than me, had tried out many other paths and found they weren’t for him). He finally found a great, but low-paying teacher job, and we decided I should either go to medical school or law school (because money, duh — forget about personal fulfillment). We tallied up the years and demanding nature of medical school, and then we looked at those 3 short years of law school…math made the decision easy! Yay math. Law school it was. The discernment process was clearly rigorous and soul-searching.
Fast forward 19 years, and I was able to retire from law to help my husband build his business.
Fast forward roughly 9 more years. Steel yourself. I am now facing the end of my marriage, and not by my choice (although it is almost certainly the right choice). My life is disordered.
Now soon-to-be-single, I also find myself lacking a clear identity. After raising kids for 26 years and counting, I wear the identity of “mom.” I proudly wear that label. But I’m at a loss looking for others.
So many people pass through this valley, regardless of whether divorce is involved. I was already in the midst of a crisis of self simply due to an impending empty nest (we still have one delightful child at home in high school, but she needs less and less of me each day). Who am I? I remember high school Donna — she was pretty dang awkward but she knew who she was! I remember college Donna — she was funny…and maybe even cool. I remember lawyer Donna — she was not happy with what she did, but she could fake it really well. She had skills and credentials. But divorced Donna? I got nothing.
This all has had me ruminating on how I skipped so many things that 20-somethings do as they develop and fine tune their personality, their self-confidence, and their “knowing” (that internal voice that whispers the truth to you regardless of whether you want to hear it).
As a result, I’m a 52½ year old lady person with much of the competency of a dumb little baby when it comes to things like: budgeting, paying bills, making big decisions on my own, killing roaches, maintaining a house, dating, traveling, planning travel, buying a car, finding a place to live. Don’t get me wrong…my skills are unmatched in so many arenas. Need a personal chef? I got you. It will be delicious. Need to keep a household full of people happy and tended to? Give me a call. Need to do the administration for a household or a business? Need me to sing in a choir or write a song or send out a good thank you note or do the laundry or be a wise counsel for a problem? <raises hand>
But the apportionment of tasks in our home for 30 years means there is a world of stuff I just don’t know. Faced with a future that will inevitably involve these things, again…my life feels like it’s fallen out of order.
I’m taking several steps in addressing all these deficiencies. I’m going to therapy for the first time in my adult life. I’m planning a trip. I have many ideas.
Here’s my main epiphany: I need to, here in my 52-year old body, experience my 20s. I need to learn all about the world and myself just like I should have done three decades ago. I can compartmentalize, and I will still be the attending and loving and responsible parent for my child still in high school, but I have plans to expand my life in my free time.
Perhaps you’ll want to join me as I live my life out of order. I may look 52, but I’m aiming to live life like a 25-year old for a while and get to know who I am!