I’ve never been one for the idea that each person has a destiny set out before them. How can someone be destined to be a prostitute or serial killer when someone else is destined to be a nun or social worker? It belies a certain amount of short-straw syndrome where some people are “destined” to have crappy luck while others get to live idyllic lives, and apparently the person with the crap luck has no say in it. At the same time, I don’t buy into the idea that we make our own destiny. I had no hand in being born into an incredibly stable house with lots of opportunities for education, advancement and overall growth complete with loving and well-adjusted parents.
I prefer to think of my life as a series of paths. I may follow the one tread by those before me, or I may veer off into other directions. I may have company on parts of the journey and others I go by myself. I may choose the direction sometimes and sometimes the direction may choose me, but there is always motion.
I’ve had to remind myself of this a lot lately, though, because I’ve been having a hard time with the fact that there are those who got pregnant around the same time that I did and they are still pregnant. I feel angry that I can’t continue that journey, I feel embarrassed that I somehow failed the test, and I’m annoyed at that sneaking little voice that asks, “Why her and not me?”
I’ve answered this question before, but apparently I have forgotten the lesson because I still seem to be asking it. So, I’m trying a different tactic this time around. Whenever I feel that question coming on, I just remember that her path is not my path. I may not know where my path will take me, but I do know which one is mine.
And for better or worse, my path right now doesn’t include being pregnant. It does include having a Diet Coke, eating bleu cheese at lunch, gardening this morning and looking forward to a glass of wine this evening. And, I’m getting better at enjoying these things for themselves and not dwelling on what being able to have them means. Because, dwelling on it doesn’t change it and never will.
It also feels so good to give myself permission not to dwell on it either. It frees me up to think about other things, dream about other things, and actually enjoy life. And you know what I did today? I laughed, out loud. It seems like it’s been so long since I did that – a genuine, joyful laugh.
And it felt really, really good.