My family is definitely matriarchal. My grandmother has lived with us since I was sixteen...along with my mom, sister, and weenie dog, "Violet" nonetheless. So my dad has always been the lone ranger in a sea of estrogen until we got our whale of a cat, Stuey. Therefore, it's not surprise that I've gotten my share of womanly advice over the years. That advice has only increased as I head into the uncharted territory of adulthood. It's really not a wonder that the quarter life crisis is so infamous. Everyone has their own opinion on what a young person should do in marriage, their career, and life in general. It's all rather confusing. Here is the advice that I've gotten recently.
On marriage:
1. Lady from church: (In a Stepford-Wife voice) "It's really important that you learn how to please your husband in the kitchen....and in other ways as well." This was an entirely serious suggestion. I felt as though I had just stepped out of the 1950s.
2. Mom: "Unless you marry Prince Charming, most of us marry average men...and the fact is, the two sides of their brain don't connect." Definitely sound, science supported advice. This is my mom in a nutshell.
3. My sister on my husband drinking more than is ideal at his bachelor party:
Me: "I'll have to discuss that with him."
Sister: "He's over 21, right?"
Me: "Yes"
Sister: "There will be no discussion."
Most of our childhood I had the role of the big sister, given her illness. At times, however, she decides that she will make up for lost times.
On choosing a career:
This morning I was having a mini-crisis. I forgot that I was on-call last night for my job, and didn't answer my phone when I was supposed to. Therefore, it was apparent that my superiors don't like me, I'll get a bad reference, won't get the next job I'm applying for, and therefore will end up doing something I hate and will have little chance of ever being happy again. It's really quite a logical progression. So I was chatting about the dilemma with my mom. She is pretty good at tough love. Basically her opinion was that I was a huge baby and it was time to jump out of the nest. She kindly told me that I could be a Baby Huey all my life, or I could learn to fly. (We love analogies in my family). In continuing the comparison, she said, "OF COURSE it's more comfortable to stay in your warm 'pee pants' but you'll get used to wearing dry, big-girl pants." At this point, my grandmother is listening in. She is the polar opposite of my mom. She insists that she speak with me and takes the phone. She tells me that my mom is being too hard on me and that I can vent to her anytime and that the important thing is that I try to take one day at a time. Don't even worry about what I will do for full-time work. I go through several rounds of them passing the phone back and forth telling me completely different things. Like I said, it's really not surprise that I'm writing this blog in the first place.
Eventually, I decided, they're both right. Taking responsibility and being a "big girl" kind of snuck up on me, but there's no going back. I have to step out of the nest and just do what needs to be done. I have everything I need for life and Godliness in this vast God I serve. He's got his hand on me and can sustain me through hard work and responsibility. On the other hand, the Bible tells me to take one day at a time. The fact is, the Lord already knows the plans He has for me and I do not have to attempt this whole "life" thing on my own. He knows my next job and wants me to trust Him to use it mightily in my life and those I'm surrounded by. I don't have to solve my problem, it's already taken care of.
"Be anxious for nothing...."
The First Twenty-Some Years
So here's the dirt. I'm a young, twenty something, newly married, trying to figure out what she's going to do with her life, thinks too much girl. Aside from the fact that my only sister was diagnosed with Schizophrenia when I was seven, my life has been pretty easy. I'm talking never divorced, church-going parents. I've had a 4.0 my whole life. My parents aren't rich by any means, so I've had to get part time jobs here and there. I've had to take out school loans, but besides that I've always had comfortable living arrangements with college friends. My family had their fair share of crap, but my mom did a really good job at protecting me from all of that, emotionally.
I met this boy. He rocked my world. If I dreamed up the most perfect person for me, I couldn't have come up with anything more. However, during this time, I struggled with the obligatory eating disorder that comes along with being a "good girl" in America these days. I credit him with pulling me out of denial and, consequently, out of my crappy way of dealing with my problems. He was my first kiss, my first serious relationship, and my first love. I saved everything for him, and I love that about us. Before too long, we were engaged and planning the most amazing wedding. I only had one breakdown on the day of the wedding after I dropped my dress in the dirt. But, as is my luck, it came right off. We had an outdoor wedding at dusk. Set in front of a large pond with shepherds hooks filled with flowers, it was absolutely picturesque. When I walked down the aisle and saw my groom's sweet face, I felt beautiful. The sound system went out during my soloist, but otherwise, it was perfect.
Today, we've been married almost two months. We live in a little one-bedroom apartment in our little college town. I make pot-pie and banana bread. He works during the day and at six or seven we have dinner on our tiny oak table with eccentric place mats. He painted a picture to hang above our couch and I'll sew some seat cushions for our breakfast room table. It's all very quaint. Other aspects of our relationship are really great as well ;) We're stuck in between the young, single life and the grown-up working life. I will be embarking on the "real job" hunt at the end of the year and he will continue on with graduate school.
I don't live in New York City. Neither of us have established jobs and are, therefore relatively poor compared to many other newlyweds. I'm graduating with a fairly useless degree (thanks to poor advising). But if the worst I have to endure is loans, a short-lived eating disorder, and a sucky sound system on my wedding day, then I think I'm doing okay. Yeah, it's been a pretty easy life. Yet, I've struggled with it all along. Outwardly, things are great. Inwardly, I've struggled with insecurities and fear for most of my life. You'd think, after twenty-some-odd years, that I would have started to master that stuff. I suppose I've been able to push it aside for the most part. It's only just recently hit the fan though. Now I'm facing the identity crisis of the twenties, the job search, and married life. It all terrifies me honestly. So these are my rantings. These are the thoughts of a messy, comlicated girl learning to be a woman who, despite all appreances, does not have it all together. Only by grace have I made it this far.
I met this boy. He rocked my world. If I dreamed up the most perfect person for me, I couldn't have come up with anything more. However, during this time, I struggled with the obligatory eating disorder that comes along with being a "good girl" in America these days. I credit him with pulling me out of denial and, consequently, out of my crappy way of dealing with my problems. He was my first kiss, my first serious relationship, and my first love. I saved everything for him, and I love that about us. Before too long, we were engaged and planning the most amazing wedding. I only had one breakdown on the day of the wedding after I dropped my dress in the dirt. But, as is my luck, it came right off. We had an outdoor wedding at dusk. Set in front of a large pond with shepherds hooks filled with flowers, it was absolutely picturesque. When I walked down the aisle and saw my groom's sweet face, I felt beautiful. The sound system went out during my soloist, but otherwise, it was perfect.
Today, we've been married almost two months. We live in a little one-bedroom apartment in our little college town. I make pot-pie and banana bread. He works during the day and at six or seven we have dinner on our tiny oak table with eccentric place mats. He painted a picture to hang above our couch and I'll sew some seat cushions for our breakfast room table. It's all very quaint. Other aspects of our relationship are really great as well ;) We're stuck in between the young, single life and the grown-up working life. I will be embarking on the "real job" hunt at the end of the year and he will continue on with graduate school.
I don't live in New York City. Neither of us have established jobs and are, therefore relatively poor compared to many other newlyweds. I'm graduating with a fairly useless degree (thanks to poor advising). But if the worst I have to endure is loans, a short-lived eating disorder, and a sucky sound system on my wedding day, then I think I'm doing okay. Yeah, it's been a pretty easy life. Yet, I've struggled with it all along. Outwardly, things are great. Inwardly, I've struggled with insecurities and fear for most of my life. You'd think, after twenty-some-odd years, that I would have started to master that stuff. I suppose I've been able to push it aside for the most part. It's only just recently hit the fan though. Now I'm facing the identity crisis of the twenties, the job search, and married life. It all terrifies me honestly. So these are my rantings. These are the thoughts of a messy, comlicated girl learning to be a woman who, despite all appreances, does not have it all together. Only by grace have I made it this far.