Being a woman… getting older… finding out who you are… it’s all part of a journey that is probably never really complete (I’ll let you know in 50 years or so if I still feel the same way). I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching this past year. I’ve made a conscious effort to find places for self-improvement, and tonight I’ve found another one.
I tend to take on the role of the “responsible adult” in my family. (If you’ve been reading for a while, you know this already.) I’ve been parenting my parents nearly as long as I can remember, and now that my Dad has passed away and my brother has reached the peak of his “stupid” phase, I find myself wanting to parent him too. But I’m not his parent, and he is an adult now (albeit, barely).
My responsibilities lie in taking care of myself, my Dad’s two dogs (which now reside with me) and my future children. I have to make my decisions for their best interest, as I am their primary caregiver. It is (and will be) my job to ensure they are kept safe and healthy, so if my brother tells me to “go fuck myself” after I’ve refused to let him take the dog camping in the middle of the night with a group of his rowdy 19 year old friends, then I’ll have to be okay with that.
I consider this practice for when I have finally adopted. I will learn to trust my judgement, and not feel guilty or sorry for my decisions.
Having a plan used to keep me going. Achieving my goals gave me something to look forward to, and the plan helped me to stay motivated along the way.
There’s something great about reaching a milestone along a journey, and knowing that you’re that much closer to reaching your end goal. It’s like leaving the office with even half of the items crossed off of your daily to-do list, just on a grander scale.
Turning the page and writing my next-day to-do list is the best part of my workday, it makes me feel good knowing that I have a plan for tomorrow… because when you have a plan, you can reach your goals.
It’s going to be a long, hard road, but I’m so there.
It’s days like this I wish The Italian and I were co-habitating. I’m home sick, I feel terrible… but life does not stop to wait for me to get better. The garbage needs to be taken out, the dogs need walking and the laundry is piled up. I long to have him coming home to me after a long day at work, to kiss my forehead, make me some soup, and tuck me into bed. But, I know that I can not push things forward faster than they are meant to go, and so I’ll wait and see where the road leads us. The only thing for certain is that I have decided what I want, and I accept it.