Personal Essay

I miss horseback riding and playing piano. I miss falling asleep reading in the afternoon. I miss going places and learning things and being surrounded by people who liked going places and learning things. I miss knowing who I was and the certainty that I would be happy in my life.

I miss sitting at the top of the stairs and listening to my parents argue, but never being scared because I knew how much they loved each other and that it would all be okay tomorrow.

I miss softball practice with my dad on summer evenings.

I miss summer on Lake Norrell and learning how to ski. I miss how much my arms ached from grasping the tow bar.

I miss life before men. I regret trying to grow up so fast. I miss my confidence in myself. I miss the hope I held before graduating high school. I miss learning how to drive stick on a 1974 MG. I regret my infidelity. The grass was never greener and I’m sorry. I should have swallowed my fear and left for school.

I wonder how I continue to be so blind in my own decisions. I wonder if it wasn’t obvious or if I chose to ignore it.

I wonder when I lost my voice. I wonder when you stopped listening.

I wonder when it became appropriate for my spouse to be in charge of me instead of my being in charge of myself. I wonder why procreating set a rule that I would have to no longer be a person, but only a mother. I wonder if anyone I know has their priorities straight. I wonder when it will stop feeling so oppressive.

I miss being ignorant of others’ judgment of me.

I wonder when family ties went from being important to being viewed as unnecessary.

I wonder when it became inappropriate to expect someone to both love you and respect you. I wonder if love even has anything to do with it. I wonder if I bring this upon myself.

I clearly overlooked important traits and convictions when it came down to how I would live my life and who I would spent my time with.

I sacrifice happiness every day.

I miss when I thought it was just my brain that was broken.

There was a day I woke up and realized things like divorce, abuse, and tragedy didn’t just happen to “other people”.

I wish I believed in something. I wish it was possible to believe in something. I wish it were possible for you to not ruin it for me.

I miss having purpose.