I realized yesterday that I am now less than a month away from that moment in my life when I will become an Only Person.
I find that idea both exhilarating and nerve inducing, terrifying while also being thrilling. No matter what my future holds, my life will be different than it has ever been before. No longer will I have to consider anyone else in my daily activities. I will not be tied to anyone else's needs. I will be on my own, a free woman, a true single.
I will be free to make my own commitments, unhindered by unexpected demands made by someone else who comes first. As an Only Person, I get to be first, last, and only, at least to some extent. Not gonna lie; I am empowered by the thought.
My entire life, I have been an adjunct to someone else. I have been someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's wife, someone's mother. Rarely have I been seen as my own person, even in the work world, as I surrounded myself with photos of the family that was out of sight, but never out of mind. My schedule, even as a working woman, has always revolved around the children whose lives were at the center of my daily life, and whose needs, and usually wants, have always been put first.
I am a fortunate woman, indeed, to have such a wonderful family. I am blessed with a mother who still drops everything to talk to me when I need her. She is there for me in a million big and little ways, each and every day of my life. But my existence is no longer defined by her time and attention. I am no longer identified by my relationship with her, as I was when I was young. Although she knows many of my friends, at least by name, she is known through me, rather than the other way around.
Since the day I found out my son was on the way, I have been a mom. I self-identified that way, and others identified me that way. My life has been directed by my children's activities and lives, and for the last 25 years, that has been who I am.
I have noticed when men meet, the first topic of discussion is always their career, no matter what the setting. They identify themselves by their work, first and foremost, and everything else is secondary.
When women meet, the first thing they discuss is marital status and motherhood, even when they are working women with high powered careers. We all identify ourselves, it seems, by our families, even when we are highly placed or powerful.
Hilary Clinton, the U.S. Secretary of State, recently revealed that her highest priority at this moment is her daughter's wedding, a statement that resonated for every woman who has either had a wedding or been the mother of the bride. It is the biggest moment in her daughter's life, and even someone as important as she knows what is most important in the big scheme of things. I doubt that she is neglecting her duties at the office; she is, if she is like every other woman, more likely neglecting herself in order to be all things to everyone who needs her.
In one month, however, my life changes radically, as the two people whose lives have been the driver for mine will both be on their own. For the first time in my life, I will answer only to me, at least on a day to day level. I don't have any illusions that I am not still going to be the mom, and that I won't still answer to my offspring! But how I spend each day will be totally up to me, for the first time in my whole life.
I have had a bucket list of things I've wanted to do since my kids were little, and there has never been time for any of it before. Perhaps now, at long last, I will finally find the time. Maybe I will go through 20 year old boxes and discard the former memories that I have now forgotten. Maybe I will look at cards given to me by people whose names have slipped my mind, and whose faces appear only in old photographs. Maybe I will finally start the process of reducing my possessions, once so important to me, and streamlining my life to suit a still relatively young and very single woman.
Or maybe, instead, I will simply lie on the sofa and read for entire weekends, living off popcorn and raspberry lemonade. I will be able to sleep late if I want to, go to church on Saturday night on a whim because I'm driving by anyway, or sit on the deck under the umbrella for hours while playing spider solitaire.
The possibilities are wide open, and I hardly know where to start. Many people fear this time of life, the empty nest, because it means they have to start anew on a life that has become familiar and comfortable, even if it's not quite what they had dreamed of back when it started.
Having started over several times in the last few years, I am no longer afraid of the new start. Having failed almost as many times in the same time span, I am not afraid of failure, either. I see it as the ultimate learning opportunity - a time to recognize what doesn't work for me - which is just as important as finding out what does.
I don't really know what the next few months will mean for me, and for my life, but I do know one thing for certain - I am excited to see where the journey leads me next. As the old saying goes, life is a journey, not a destination. Here's hoping the ETA is still a long ways away for me, because I've got too much ahead to arrive too soon.
