****I wrote this back in August, and am just now getting
around to posting it.****
For many years, I maintained an online journal. I began it
as a way to just share my day-to-day shenanigans with close friends and a few
internet acquaintances that quickly became friends. Since its inception, it has
gone from a daily journal to a lifeline to my memory bank. Every once in a
while, particularly on a slow day at work, I will do what I call “on this day
in history,” which is where I look back on entries throughout the years on or
around whatever day it is. It’s kind of like Facebook’s “memories” feature,
except it involves a lot more work, and there’s no share feature. For instance,
last week, while bored at work, I looked up days around August 3rd.
As I was looking through my memories, I came across a series
of posts describing my return home. This was after my first husband and I had
separated, and I had returned to live with my father and try to rebuild my
life. I should note that before I met my ex-husband, I had been doing fairly
well in life. I had a good job, I was buying my first house, and I was going to
school. During and after our relationship, my life really hit rock bottom.
At the time of those entries, written exactly 10 years
prior, I was returning home with my tail between my legs. I was broke, unemployed,
newly single, and with a baby to raise on my own. I was forced to move in with
my father for the second time of my adult life. Re-reading those entries was
painful, remembering all of the things I felt and worried about during that
time.
However, as I read them, I was able to look at them with the
perspective and hindsight provided by a decade of time passage. I was able to
compare my current self to my past self and, in that moment, I truly grasped
the accomplishments I have made. Ten years ago, I was a broken, vulnerable
young women, unsure of how I would ever support myself, let alone the tiny baby
I brought into this world. I was in despair, but I didn’t give up. Six months
after moving home, I found a part time job with the government that allowed me
to finish my degree. Two years later, I was almost done with my Bachelor’s
degree and was promoted to full time. Step by step, year by year, I was able to
rebuild my life, but it was a slow process. Oftentimes, I felt I would go two
steps forward, 5 steps back, but I still kept progressing, even if it felt
infinitesimal. Setbacks included car troubles that increased my debt,
relationships that I thought would last forever that instead ended, and
difficulties improving my economic status due to too few raises.
Nevertheless, in 10 years, I managed to earn 3 degrees; move
my way up through state government to manage a small unit; successfully compete
for a highly competitive fellowship; and marry the man I was meant to. I’m both
amazed and humbled by not only my achievements, but also by the individuals who
helped me along the way.
One of those people is my daughter. She often asks me if she
was a mistake. I tell her every time, with 100% conviction that she was not a
mistake. In fact, I don’t believe I would be where I am today if it wasn’t for
her. Every parent discusses how their child was the best thing to ever happen
to them, but for me, my daughter was the catalyst that caused me to value my
own life. I left her father because, at the time, I felt that even though I
didn’t think I deserved better, I knew she did. However, in the process of
trying to give her a better life and to become more of a role model for her,
I’ve found a new lease on life. I still suffer from depression, but I’ve found the
resilience, accountability, and emotional maturity I’ve gained in the last
decade to be a source of strength during the darker days. While I often wish
that she had come into my life under different circumstances, I hope the last
decade of watching me struggle forward has not left scars on her childhood and
instead provides her hope and strength of her own.
I don’t expect the next 10 years, and beyond, to be all
roses and happiness. However, I believe that the lessons I’ve learned in the
past decade and the struggles I’ve faced have better prepared me for whatever
may lie ahead. I’m not 100% sure where my path is leading me, but I hope to
never stagnate and instead embrace whatever lessons or experiences await. I’m
definitely much more of an optimist than I was 10 years ago, and for that, I am
thankful.
