In the Absence of Clarity
Today started off rough in the parenting department. Within ten minutes of waking up, I was on the receiving end of an, “I’m never going to be happy because of YOU!” outburst. Cue my internal spiral.
To the trails I went.
I didn’t come back with any grand solutions this time. No lightbulb moment on how to reach my child, no epiphany of any kind. I don’t feel a greater sense of clarity. I don't even really feel the relief of an energy release.
What I gained from this run, more than anything, was an affirmation that the world won’t fall apart when I do something purely for me. Specifically, my family’s world won’t fall apart. Of course I know that intellectually, but my body forgets easily. On days like today, three miles spent thinking about myself, and even the luxury of nothing at all feels revolutionary.
Today, as I carried myself along the trail, I remembered all the times in my growing up years that I channeled my personal dreams and wishes into imagining the man I would someday marry. I had an interest in biology, so I dreamt of marrying a wildlife scientist. I loved riding horses, so imagined him to be a cowboy. I loved dogs, so he must surely be a dog person. Reading, running, spirituality, adventure. All of my dreams would be fulfilled through this man I had never met, who I wasn’t sure even existed. I hoped I’d know him when I saw him. I hoped I’d find him so he could carry me into the life of my dreams.
So much of my social world supported this line of thinking. My path was already clear—marriage and motherhood—the differentiation was held in the person I would marry. Our lifestyle would be determined by his career. I thought that I was being radical when I said that I’d likely need a project of my own, and perhaps I’d run a part-time photography business “just to get out of the house.”
So now, nine years into marriage and eighth into parenthood, I find myself trying to shove hobbies and interests onto my husband.
Don't you want to go for a run?
You HAVE to read this book.
It’s like I want my husband to be a specific person so that I can vicariously be that person too. Because that’s how I always conceived of my personhood—through my husband. Even before I knew who he was, if he existed at all.
Today’s run was revolutionary. Not because I hit a PR, or came home with the solutions to my parenting woes, but because from somewhere in my body, a new question came to the surface:
What if I don’t have to live vicariously? What if I am the one that carries myself to my own dreams?
I carried myself through the entire run. And that feels like a start.
