Let me let you in on a little secret: I’m selfish.
Except when it comes to the needs of my son and beloved, which seem to always climb ahead of my own.
I’ve never understood the plight of women who complained about losing themselves because they put themselves last until it happened to me.
When beloved first got locked up, it was like I lost a piece of myself. I was a week away from the birth of our son and I was an emotional wreck. When he made it to Rikers Island and could receive packages, I made sure he had EVERYTHING. I didn’t want him bargaining for the basics, soI sent clothes, underwear, shoes, books, magazines. I spent so much money that first year, it was crazy. Part of me felt guilty because I was free and he wasn’t, so I overdid it. I would stay at home, turn down invites from friends under the guise of not having a babysitter, but really, I felt that I shouldn’t be out enjoying myself when he couldn’t. I effectively put his needs (or my perception of his needs) before any and all of mine. Somewhere between being a mommy and providing for my family, I lost pieces of myself, just like all those women I couldn’t seem to understand. Slowly, but steadily, I became last on the list.
For the past two months beloved has been in the box—solitary—unable to make calls. His time in the SHU has also coincided with the new school year and the munchkin’s foray into preschool. Over the course of his years in prison, beloved has asked for less, aware of the growing financial responsibilities I shoulder, and my son has become more independent. The collision of these things have opened up a lot of free time, and allowed me time for reflection.
Instead of rushing from work to pick up the munchkin, I don’t pick him up until 5:30 (which he loves), which gives me time to decompress after a LONG day of dealing with other people’s kids. I’m able to work out (which I haven’t done yet, but soon!), veg out, or read. I love it. I feel so indulgent taking this time just for myself. It’s helping to keep me sane and not mistakenly heap the residual frustration I feel from teaching on his little shoulders. It’s definitely a win-win all the way around.
I started reflecting about putting myself first after seeing beloved this past Saturday. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since August (because of solitary), and I was worried. To ease my mind, I made a quick trip to see him. He was very happy to see me, and I was happy he was ok. During our short visit, he kept telling me that he wanted me to be happy and live life. He reiterated that he wanted me to enjoy myself and that he loved me. I told him I do enjoy my life and that my love for him hasn’t changed, but is that the truth? Do I enjoy my life?
There are a lot of things I wish were different. Teaching is great, for someone, but not necessarily for me. I’d love to have a job that I look forward to each day, not one where I wish for summer break to hurry up. I’d also love to travel. Everywhere. I’m going to be 30 next year and have only been out of the country once (& does Canada really count?). I have been thinking a lot about taking a trip for my birthday, but then guilt creeps in: Beloved can’t share it with me, so maybe I should wait?
But I realize that I can’t keep waiting. I can’t keep putting things on hold because he can’t share them with me. I know that when he does come home we can create new memories, but if I put everything on hold, myself included, I will come to resent this life and him. I don’t want to fall victim to resentment and shoulda, woulda, couldas, so I’m putting myself at the top of the list.
Turning 30 provides the perfect opportunity to reflect on my life, survey where I am and where I want to go. I’ve accomplished a lot in 29 years, but there’s so much more I want to see and do. And you know what? I’m not going to wait anymore. I’m just going to do it.
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Do you have trouble putting yourself first?
What have you been putting off, that you really want to do?
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