Taking Back Control In Defining My Life
I had it all, but it didn’t feel right; figuring for myself what I really want instead of what I should want.
“We too often let the externals, the material things, serve as indicators that we’re doing well, even though something inside us tells us we’re not doing our best.” — Barack Obama
In the early years of the 2010 decade, I was living my best life.
I had a circle of friends, awesome coworkers, disposable income, and decent relationships with family.
I had a house ready to accommodate a family, a new car, a job that had growth potential, and most importantly, was on track to finishing up a degree and getting married.
I made it, I thought. This is what success looked like.
For a while, waking up in my oversized master bedroom with expensive plush carpet, eating out in hip restaurants, and planning for my exciting future, life was truly blissful.
And yet.
I had the feeling something wasn’t aligning, but didn’t know what. I tried hard to be a decent human being, to be kind and compassionate, to live the life my immigrant family members strove tirelessly for. It wasn’t until the implosion of my marriage that I took ten steps back and did some soul searching to figure out what was missing.
Like many kids in Asian families, I grew up straight and narrow.
There wasn’t much room for exploration; it was a very linear progress that life should be lived: go to school, graduate and get a good job, work hard and save, get married and have kids, and then live out your golden years in peace surrounded by grandchildren and family.
Not saying there’s anything wrong with that picture. It actually sounds very loving, fulfilling, and warm. If that’s for you, that is.
I just didn’t know whether that was for me. Yet, I blindly followed that path because I thought it was the right thing to do. It was so ingrained in me that I didn’t, couldn’t, think for myself until the divorce catalyst. Having to process and reflect on that loss helped me finally figure out what had been nagging me all along.
I was living someone else’s expectations.
When I met my ex-husband’s boss’ wife for the first time, she had just given birth to their third child. She was so happy holding her baby, and asked me if I was looking forward to having my own soon.
“Not really,” I stammered, caught off-guard.
Surprised, she asked me why not.
And truthfully, I didn’t know why not. I just said something along the lines of “Oh, it’s hard, I won’t have sleep.” Sounds selfish and immature, right?
If that’s all you took away from that exchange, I don’t blame you. She probably did, too. I hadn’t boldly and assertively validated my own feelings; what makes me think others will validate for me? Reading between the lines, what I was really trying to say was I’m not sure I wanted kids. Any time anyone mentioned having kids, it was a noncommittal response from me. But, I grew up thinking that was the only right thing to do, and to not have this strong, maternal yearning, that I was somehow deficient, less of a woman, or just plain WRONG. The more I was asked about it, the more ashamed I felt for not feeling excitement.
Then there was marriage.
Prior to my ex-husband, I fell in love with a much older man.
Divorced and child-free, he was the one who started me subconsciously questioning the values I thought were my own. He hadn’t wanted to get married again, or have kids, and was very sure in his choices. Some time along our courtship, he actually changed his mind about the marriage part, and started asking me questions about how I imagined my wedding to be. You know, colors and shit.
That was when I realized… I had never thought about it before. Much like having children, getting married was more of like a chore than something to be excited about. My family never romanticized it. It was simply a milestone that happened during your progression of life.
Not wanting to give him an excuse to go back on marriage, I made up some details. Figured if we ever got there, we can plan it then. Fake it ‘til you make it. Turned out, I didn’t need to do that for long; we broke up shortly after.
And finally, there was success all together.
Or rather, my family’s, and maybe greater society’s, definition of it, that is.
When I was growing up, we had very little. By scrimping and saving, my family managed to claw themselves to lower middle class, to give the next generation the best start possible. It wasn’t until we graduated college was when things started to get easier.
With these experiences, it’s no wonder their relationship with success has largely been tied to money. It’s not a wrong mindset, just a scarcity one, borne out of war, revolution, and other hardships. I am so thankful for the opportunities their sacrifices have paved for me. I also think judging a person’s worth on education, status, and money is severely limiting.
Because of that, for a long time, I felt like I didn’t measure up. Having much more opportunities and being college-educated, the expectations were you’d start out way better and with more potential than they would ever have. Being in the medical field, or a lawyer, or an engineer were prestigious professions they can humble-brag about. I was none of those.
Instead, I double-majored in HR Management and Business Administration, and chose a retail management path for my first real job. The rest of my peers went on to have fancy job titles and exciting careers with lots of potential, and I ended up staying in that management job for the next 7 years.
One time, I jokingly said to one of my cousins that my place of employment fired me, and he said that it was probably for the better, that working for them wasn’t that good anyway.
Ouch.
Maybe he meant to console. Maybe he said out loud what he’s been thinking all along. I will never be 100% sure, but I also know when his son started out part-time at a fast food restaurant, he told him to not tell anyone.
Losing my marriage forced me to reckon to what I really wanted. Being unencumbered by others’ expectations freed me to evaluate my choices and why I made them.
I realized that, amongst others, marriage, kids, and success, are things that ARE important to me, just in my own terms.
I want to have a loving, sustaining marriage that includes all the important aspects, not just getting married for the sake of not being alone.
While I still am on the fence about having kids, I do know I love them. Biology may help make that decision for me, but contrast from before, I am open to fostering or adoption, and not necessarily have to have my own. If that happens, I will be choosing to love and raise kids, instead of seeing it like a chore.
And finally, my definition of success has changed. I will always work hard because it’s my nature, but I don’t strive to make a lot of money anymore. Success to me means continuous self-improvement, achieving contentment, fostering great relationships, and living an authentic, fulfilling life.
No longer will I be living a life of dogma.
I wish there was a shortcut to learn the lessons I did without all the heartbreak and time wasted, but life didn’t deal me those cards. I got ones like “learn things the hard way”, “limited foresight but great hindsight”, and “always behind the 8 ball”. I have no choice but play the best hand I can. I am hoping life has another card up its sleeve, that will turn out to be “dealt with enough crap, advance 20 spaces”.
Until then, I will be methodically and purposefully unfolding along this path that I am slowly making mine.
