Remember when I had to write about jealousy for a RemembeRED prompt and I told you I was jealous of everyone in the entire freaking world because I am so insecure and it’s a wonder why I’m not permanently curled up in a ball of tears locked inside my closet?
Another woman is pregnant.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not jealous that this woman is pregnant because I want to be pregnant.
I’m jealous because it’s just another reminder that I did everything wrong. And today I’m in a mood where I feel like I’m punished constantly for doing it all wrong.
I can’t even be happy for this person.
I mean, I don’t even actually know the woman who is pregnant. I went to school with her husband. I dated her brother-in-law. My best friend is her friend. I know her through Facebook photos, really. And sporadic status updates from her husband.
But seeing his post of that ultrasound just broke my goddamn heart.
Because they did things “right.” They went to college, moved in together, got married, and are now having a baby.
And even though I keep reading these articles about how people aren’t necessarily doing things in that order anymore and “non-traditional” families are emerging in higher numbers, what I see on an almost daily basis tells me otherwise. What I am witnessing is that people are very much remaining traditional.
And I let it get to me. Every single time.
My little sister is pregnant. Did I mention that?
She also did things fairly traditionally.
I knew things were going to be like this all those years ago when I first found out I was pregnant. I knew that choosing to have the baby was going to alter my entire life. I just never knew it would still be this hard to accept, five years later. I thought that by getting married, even if it was after the baby was born, I would be brought back on track with “everyone else”. And even though I was the first of my friends and siblings to have a baby and get married, everyone else would start catching up soon enough.
(Didn’t realize I would also be the first of my friends to get a divorce. Yeah. I’m totally a statistic.)
I knew things would change, they always do. I knew things would be different. I knew things would be hard.
I just never imagined it would be like this.
I never imagined that I would be 6 years out of college and still not in a career. I never imagined that I would be 27 years old and would have never bought a car for myself. I never imagined I would be this close to 30 and not own a home. I never imagined that I would be a divorcee with a 4.5 year old. I never imagined that I would feel so young and so old all at the same time.
But you know what?
I also never imagined that I could love someone as much as I love my kiddo. True story. I also never imagined that I would be 6 years out of college and applying to freaking law school. I never imagined that I would be considering moving somewhere outside of my comfort zone, possibly even somewhere I don’t have a single friend or family member.
I don’t think I’m very strong (although I know people who tell me otherwise). But I do think that I’m getting stronger. I’m getting there.
I’m like a work-in-progress.
(But really, aren’t we all?)
So even though I get in this incredibly crappy mood every time I hear someone is getting married or having a baby or working at a totally awesome job or buying a house or lost 10 pounds, there is still that part of me that knows I’m getting there.
One day I’ll be able to look back at all of this and think, yeah that was a really crappy time and everything seemed really difficult but oh my god look how far I’ve come. And even then I’ll know that my life isn’t perfect and nothing in life should be easy and I’ve worked hard for everything I’ll have, I will know that my suffering was worth it.
Because it will be.
I know it.
(I have to believe it, or I really will lock myself in the closet and be a curled up crying mess.)