crazy dreams.

I’ve been having dreams lately
that Eric wants a divorce.
True story.
They feel so vivid.
Some mornings
it feels so real
that I wake up
in tears.

In my dreams
I try to convince him
to change his mind,
hoping that even though
he brought it up
that he might forget
and things will continue
as is.

It has made me think more
about us,
and our relationship.
How I appreciate him so much,
and would be lost
without him,
which is hard for me
to admit.

A girl can take care of herself.

 

I wasn’t born with The Wife Gene.

I grew up seeing
and believing
that a woman
doesn’t need a man.
She can take care of herself.

If women were meant to be subservient to men,
He wouldn’t have given them the brains he did.
Gram made me believe
that I could do anything
I wanted to.

My Auntie Lynne
chose to go out on her own.
She bought her own house,
hauled her own firewood,
and built a business from scratch.
She is the hardest working person
I know.

Auntie Carolyn
wore the pants (sorry Uncle Bill).
I remember her telling him
to change into different clothes
or that he needed to shave.
She had a presence.

Grandma Ina
ran her own business
and lived on her own.
She was a female entrepreneur
when there were few.

The women in my life
were (and are) strong
and independent.

I wasn’t born
with a wife gene.

 

childhood dreams.

I loved love.

Playing with Barbies
in the basement
always involved
love stories
love triangles
and lots of kissing.

As a teen
I loved movies like
Serendipity,
Mad Love,
and Dirty Dancing.
Movies of love
and finding your person.
I believed in fate
and soulmates.

It’s funny
because I wasn’t
boy obsessed.
I steered clear of girls
who followed boys around
and wanted to get serious,
way too soon.

I didn’t need a guy.
I would make my own
decisions.

I purposely chose a university
different than
my high school boyfriend.
I would live my own life.

I wasn’t a girl
who dreamed of her wedding day,
the dress she would wear,
or the colours of her wedding party.
I bought my wedding dress off the rack
by myself one night after work.

Eric needed to put a ring on it
before I added him to my health benefits.
We did not share a bank account
until after we had kids.

I was independent
and reliant
on no one
but myself.

I thank my mom
and gram for that.

 

 

rewriting our love story.

I find myself
needing to change
and to ask
for help.
Which so
isn’t me.
I can do things
on my own.

But taking care of
three small children
takes its toll.

My ambitions are bigger
than what is healthy.

I find myself
even more thankful
than ever
for Eric.

I can be reliant on him
and still be strong.
I can be independent
and need him at the same time.
I can put him before myself
without being less important.
I can pack his lunch
and have dinner ready
without feeling subservient.

I am learning what love is
at 38 years old.

 

 

our love story. part 2/3
our love story. part 3/3