… is not something I am good at.

I doubt there is enough therapy in the world to fix me. I am flawed, this I know. Maybe I’ve come to know my flaws better as I’ve gotten older. At least I’d like to think I have.

It would be far too easy of a life if we were all forever young. Youth is a luxury… short-lived and fleeting. Imperfection is overlooked. Decisions are made on a whim. Regrets are few.

Then, you get older. And it seems… everywhere you turn is a regret. Why didn’t I do this or that? What was I afraid of? What was I thinking?!*??

Eventually, you dedicate a lot of brain space to the missed opportunities, bad decisions, and heartache. Heartache given AND received.

Then what do you do?

That’s where I am right now.

I think I’ve used the analogy before of walking in quicksand with rain boots on. Every step is hard. Every time I try to walk forward, I am fighting the suction of the mud against my boots. Constantly being sucked back into the earth. Eventually, the boots get stuck permanently. So I step out of the boots. Naked feet and legs. For a nanosecond, I am free. Happy. But now I’m dirty. And because I gave up the protection of my boots, my feet and legs are exposed and raw. When I get to where I am going, how am I going to get cleaned up? Will everyone laugh at me and pity me… the girl with dirty, bare feet?

I am coming to grips with understanding now that I have to stop looking backward and start looking forward.

But it’s damn hard.

After all, I am different now.

The problem is no one knows this but me. My life is not a secret, my infertility- certainly not a secret. This journey has made me a little bitter, absolutely. It also made me so very compassionate.  But others see what they want to see, don’t they? The imperfect girl with dirty feet.

Imagine that, gaining empathy for others (something I did not have at all in my youth) but losing the shiny! sparkly! me that others expect to see.  Or I should say, the “faux” me.  Because, let’s face it- every day isn’t so rosy with xxxx’s and oooo’s and flowers and unicorns.   I now allow myself to feel the feelings, and not make excuses for it.  The reality is, that doesn’t look so appealing to everyone around me, because it forces the mirror to reflect back.

Heavy stuff.

I wish that all people had a life experience that rocked them to the core… not because I am sadistic and wish any misfortune to others, but rather to level the playing-field. Remove the judgement and misconceptions. Add a little humanity to the mix.

If I had to do this all over again, of course I’d change a few things. But now that I’ve lived this life that was chosen for me, I wonder what my life would be like without the last 5 years in my muddy boots. 

Maybe the person I could have been would be a worse version of me.

I have to believe that to be true.  Because it would be a real downer if I lived though all of that for nothing.  I admit it-  it’s hard to let the negative emotions go, but at the same time I will hold tight to the thought that this path is not meant simply for regrets.

Disappointment, excitement, failure, great achievements, sad days, happy days…

and yes… a sprinking of unicorns.