LJ Idol Week 0: Introduction
Ken and Annette’s first-born child. Sacha’s older sister. Roberto’s wife. Aurora’s mother. I may currently be your child’s English teacher, but I may also have been your child’s math teacher last year; either way, I’m the woman writing the lengthy IEP nobody bothers to read.
The woman with the long auburn hair that’s touched up every six weeks to keep the dishwater blonde from poking through. The woman hurriedly passing you by to get to yet another destination that never appears to be the bathroom; if on foot, this will most likely include an attempt to multitask by reviewing plans in the mind or responding to emails on the phone.
I used to be the girl who played Super Mario Bros. 3 with her mother until all its secrets were learned. I used to be the girl who scribbled notebooks full of stories and who dreamed of writing a novel one day. I used to be the girl who stayed up until the wee hours of the night trying to teach herself html and CSS. I used to be the girl who flew 2,500 miles to meet a virtual stranger. I used to be the girl with her nose in a book while she rode the bus and then walked the remaining handful of blocks to work because she was too afraid to learn to drive. I used to be the girl who stayed up late in order to fall asleep in his arms. I used to be the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve like a badge of honor rather than an achilles heel. I used to be the girl who expected, at this age, to have it all figured out.
But I’m now the woman finding out that it’s so much harder than it looks. I’m now the woman realizing that everything that I thought I wanted-that everything I thought I didn’t want-is a lie. I’m now the woman who recognizes that society chews up and spits out those who work the hardest and for the best reasons. I’m now the woman who lies awake unable to sleep at night wondering if she’s done enough.
I’m now the woman who struggles to believe this life is one coherent narrative and worries there’s no part of that girl left anymore. I didn’t always appreciate her, but I miss her.