Take Me Away, Peter Pan

Sprinkle Tinkerbell's dust on my shoulders, take my hand, and fly me away to Neverland, I don't want to grow up anymore.

I always prided myself on being mature. Partly because I was often told when I was young that I was mature beyond my age, which my ego loved, and partly because I really felt it. I felt like I was handling my life stages appropriately. I wasn't shoving cocaine in my nostrils on the weekends, I had several savings accounts, I worked hard, and I was a resource of wise and comforting advice to many of my friends. Now, in this new phase in my life, I'm not so sure. I think I may have hit a wall. 

In the last few years, as more of my friends and peers got married, had kids, and generally moved forward in their pursuit of raising families, the closer it seemed to get for me. And I was excited. That's how it's supposed to be, right? This is it, this is the dream! Now, I'm next in line. I'm engaged, I am getting a lot of questions from family about when babies are on their way, and we're planning for a bigger house. And more and more, I am starting to feel that excitement turn to anxiety.

I have felt my already limited social circle slip away even more (which for my extroverted side has been terrifying), due to both geographical distance and life changes. It makes sense, people are busy keeping tiny humans alive! They don't have time for hiking dates, dance parties,  and weekends away. I am so happy for them and their little ones! But my brain keeps going "So, what does that mean for me? Am I looking at what the next 5-10 years of what my life looks like? Is that what I want?" Let me just say right now that I know everyone parents differently, but that rational thought has done little to quell my fears. I am questioning even wanting kids at all, which for almost anyone in my life sounds insane coming out of my mouth. I love being a big sister, I love babysitting and building forts and make-believe. Give me a kid aged 4-12, and I bet you I can win them over (without using chocolate or gummy-bears). But I can always give those kids back. They don't effect the plans I want to make, the adventures I want to have, they don't wake me up at midnight hungry (or 2am + 3am + 4am. Babies are greedy little milk gremlins!). 

My brain is obsessed with questions like What about travelling? What about figuring out a career I am passionate about? What about dancing until the sun comes up because I feel like it? I guess what I am saying is that at some point, I started to believe that having kids means your life is no longer your own, and I can't seem to shake that feeling. I miss being 22 (in some ways), being in a big city and meeting new people, having no responsibilities to anyone but myself. I love being in a couple, but sometimes I crave the freedom of being on my own. And it's not about dating, or being with other people, it's about wide open spaces and novelty and not having to consult anyone else about taking a left turn or a right. 

I'm sorry, my mistake, I've decided I no longer wish to get any older or transition into any other life stages. Go find Peter, tell him I am waiting on the balcony, and I'll see you never. Turns out, I'm perhaps a little more selfish than I thought?

So, what, all those nights in my early 20s, crying myself to sleep listening to Sarah McLauchlan because I was lonely were somebody else inhabiting my body? In a way, yes, because it was my ego misplacing my emotions. I wasn't lonely, I just didn't know how to love myself yet (still working on it!). But I do remember yearning for a relationship. Wondering why the men I was dating weren't working out. Why the ones I seemed to like so much never wanted anything long term. And now, 5 years into the best relationship I have ever had romantic or non, when I am lucky enough to have someone who not only puts up with my neurotic behaviour and roller coaster emotions, but wants to do it forever, I feel...restless? What is wrong with humans?! Is this our nature to self-sabotage, to want to be unhappy? Why do we teach ourselves that we have to satisfy every whim? Why can't we be grateful for our good graces and stop "searching"? (I say "we" because I know I'm not alone) I have to say, I am fucking tired of searching. Give it up already Em! But I can't! Or I won't. Not sure which it is.

In the grand scheme of things, I have an unbelievable life. I could list all the reasons why, but I would still come back to the fact that I don't feel like I have found my purpose. And, based on the minor life crisis I have been experiencing in the last few months, I would say that the biggest fear that has emerged from that is this: I feel like if I start having kids soon without figuring that piece of myself out, I will be so tired, and so worried about their well-being, that I won't be strong enough to fight my depression, and I will lapse into devoting my whole life to the lives of others, and never truly feel like I figured out who I was, that I had an impact on the world, or lived a life worth talking about. I haven't written it down quite like that yet, but there it is. 

And guess what? No one can say anything or do anything that will make that fear seem less real, except me. That is part of my emotional garden, I need to water the shit out of it so it doesn't die, and that is my responsibility. I am living in this fear right now, and I gotta say, I feel overwhelmed by it on a lot of days. I have realized I am really struggling with this particular life transition. Living in a small town as an extrovert, I already feel isolated and I'm scared that throwing kids into the mix will mean losing my free-time, the ability to connect with the few close friends I have, and the drive to do anything about it. I have spent a lot of time thinking and I can see myself trying to attribute these feelings to anything external that I can (small town, lack of jobs, small social pool, etc), when realistically no matter what I do, unless I deal with this internal struggle, it will just follow me wherever I go. Really, I am trying to weasel out of doing the work. I don't want to go through hours of painful introspection and hard conversations, I just want it to be figured out! That's not how it works though. There isn't a magic pill or a simple answer. 

With my wedding date fast approaching, this is all coming up at what seems like a very inopportune time for me, but hey, you can't plan these things. And better that I address these fears now so I can discuss them with my partner, who very definitely wants to raise a family, before we walk down the aisle (or in our case, the designated strip of grass).

I have people telling me that I have all the time in the world to have kids. You can tell me that all you want, but I still feel like I am on the clock. I still feel like if I am going to do it, it needs to be sooner than later. And deep down, I know I want kids. I have for a very long time. And those conversations that come up in this stage of life with my friends who are deciding that it's not for them, I join in on, but at the end, I really do still feel like it's something I want. 25 years from now, I know I won't regret it. Yes, I bet I will still miss going out and cutting it loose every now and again, but I hopefully will have raised kids who are smart enough to be left to their own devices now and again without causing themselves serious harm. Heck, by that time they will probably be out of the house and starting to experience questions like this themselves! 

I don't have a wise conclusion for this ramble. If I did, I wouldn't have needed to write it at all. I am thankful though that at least I am somewhat aware of these thoughts rolling around up there, which means hopefully I am on my way to figuring them out. I'll let you know!