I feel like I’m fighting a battle within myself. Which is pretty much exactly the opposite of fun.
There is one side of me that is independent and ready to get out and do things in the world of performing arts. Somewhere other than where I currently live. It’s the part of me that deals with the fact that I have to go to school and the part of me that has been making sure pretty much everything is set for school. It’s the part of me that wants to be a singer.
The other side of me is done with all of that. The other part of me is the accountant. It’s the side that’s ready to have a family. It’s the part of me that wants to kiss my husband and my baby every night before bed and every morning when I wake up.
It’s the side I thought I didn’t have. And, to be honest, it’s taking over.
But I’m still caught between the two.
If I don’t finish my performance degree soon-ish, I feel like I’ll lose any miniscule chance I might have had to do something great. I have a great scholarship and a bunch of grants and other financial aid that is making at least the next two years of school practically free to me. The only loan I currently have for school is a small one just to make sure my living expenses are covered. Like, I have more left to pay on my car (which I’ve been paying off for 3.5 years already) than this amount.
I have an ideal living situation already set up with roommates I generally adore in a place I actually would even feel comfortable living alone (which says a lot).
I will never get an opportunity like this again.
I know this and I’m not about to let it slip through my fingers.
So, what the fuck is wrong with my biological clock? It's like a police raid on the party of my hopes and dreams.
Twenty-four is in no way old. I only just now feel like I’m an adult. And maybe that’s a big part of my problem.
A year ago I wasn’t really positive I ever wanted kids. Two years ago I thought I didn’t. Three years ago I practically had one and only wanted kids if I was going to have them with one specific person. But I was still a kid myself in a lot of ways and not at all prepared to have my own baby.
Not that I am now or will ever really be.
That doesn’t change the fact that in the last three months I have come to realize I really want them.
I want to be a big round pregnant woman with a man who loves me so much he is willing to rub my feet and help me put cocoa butter on my stretch marks and drive to the store at 2:30 AM because I desperately need mint gelato.
By "loves me" I mean "loves me and fears my hormones."
I want a baby that is a tiny reflection of our combined faces.
At what point did my dreams and wants for my future become so… Normal?
At what point did they become about something other than me?
By the way, Patty, I still haven't forgotten about the tattoo post, but I want a good picture of each to put up for the explanation and I don't have the photos yet. I'm hoping this week.