What puts me on my kitchen floor at nearly 27 years old with tears streaming down my face?
Is it the worry that my grandma will take her last breath in that Sanford hospital bed? Is it the confusion of medical bill after medical bill of a visit I’ve spoken to only a few about? Maybe it’s just the simplicity of a single, wintertime night in South Dakota.
I’m fortunate for the time I have alone. The bathroom breaks without a toddler shoving their way through the door. The PB&Js because I don’t feel like cooking. The endless opportunity to do absolutely anything I want at any moment. Peace and quiet is the main purpose for my unattached lifestyle. However, sometimes, that peace and quiet can eat your mind with endless thoughts and scenarios. Be careful what you feed it. Much like a McDonald’s cheeseburger, some assumptions should never be on the diet plan. They are unhealthy. They are cruel. And the worst? Sometimes, they are exactly right.
Comparison is the thief of all joy.
Growing up we are always compared to people our age. “My child is in the 90th percentile.” Whatever that means. It’s always a race of who can tie their shoes faster, who can kiss a boy first, who can reach that American dream before their classmates. What is the American Dream? Having a successful job? Coming home to a spouse, with two children, one girl and one boy? Living in that 4 bed 3 bath home? I don’t know who wants that life exactly but it sounds like a fairy tale. A fairy tale made of fake sparkle dust and intangible dreams. To me, the American dream is simple: to be happy. To start from nothing or very little and reach your ultimate goal, happiness. I find happiness in an RV looking at the scenic views across America. I find happiness in a quiet home with no arguments or questions of another’s actions. I find happiness in being me, with the understanding that I change each and every day. I’m not who I was yesterday, or the week prior, or even the woman I was last year. There are definitely better versions of myself in the past so to achieve that American dream I must glue together those aspects like puzzle pieces. I encourage others to keep working on their American dream, whatever that may be. I pray it’s different than your neighbors because if we were all the same, what’s the point of living? There would be no desire to understand your neighbors' process on his bean field. No urge to have a beer if you know verbatim what the bartender is going to say. No fashion sense to get out of bed if we all dressed in black polos and jeans. It would be mundane; repetition day in and day out. It’s okay to want a different lifestyle than your friends. To be brave enough to be different than the status quo. However, the first step is accepting that for ourselves. I think that may be the reason for the salty drops sliding down my cheeks. I’m confused and I’m rushed. Yet, at the same time I’m completely relaxed with my outlook. God’s got me.
So whether the bills keep coming, or my attire switches to jet black as I attend a Catholic Celebration of Life, at the very least, I’m still me. I’ll still be the person to hop into a car with anyone and go anywhere. I’ll still be outgoing and eager to connect with souls from all walks of life. The opposing truth is: I’ll still be the somber girl on her kitchen floor. We all have our highs and lows. Our ups and downs. Yet, only some of us are brave enough to accept those uncomfortable challenges rather than sweep them under the picture-perfect rug.
Keep being you, striving for YOUR American Dream. We may not understand the holes now, but eventually the ladder will fall to climb your way out. Boyfriends, girlfriends, family, friends, children, great grands. They all make up fractions of our lives but when it comes to our last day, the only person we truly have is ourselves. Find your strength from your own bones, your own mind, and your own being. Wipe those tears; they will dry on their own.
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