The life I am living is not my life. Each day belongs to some woman I never imagined I would become. She is a woman who barely exists; she is a woman who breathes shallow breaths. I have once felt this woman is not the “me” I dreamed for myself when I was seventeen and invincible. She is weary, she is vexed, and she is disappointed. Life has not been fair, nor has it been easy. Yet, she survives. If I am honest with myself, I must admit that I am most proud that she survives. Nevertheless, I ask myself whether this life is worth the struggle; should not this thirty-seven-year-old submit to fate and hope to do better next lifetime? Giving up would be easier than fixing what has gone wrong, but giving up would also mean facing the reality that this woman I see in the mirror is all I was meant to be. Somewhere deep in the crevice of my dampened spirit lays a hope that “it is never too late to be what you might have been.” This quote by nineteenth century British writer George Eliot serves as my motivation for moving forward in this world. I have to believe that there will be time and opportunity to live the life of my dreams.  .:read more:.

How did I get off track? How did I lose sight of my path, my goals? It only took a few poor choices to derail my life on the fast track. I married the wrong man. I picked the wrong job. I settled for easy and comfortable. One poor choice led to a dozen more poor choices. In the end, I found myself divorced with three children, struggling to seek out an existence in a job that was intellectually unfulfilling and living in a city that did not offer opportunities for personal or cultural growth. Moreover, I allowed the stress of everything to consume me while I substituted food for love and happiness. “Fat, broke, and weary” became my mantra until recently when I decided: enough is enough. I am better than this; I have known since the third grade that I had the potential for greatness. My mother raised me to believe that I was more than mediocre. What happened to me? I simply forgot who I was.  

Obstacles and failures can make us forget who we are meant to be. We begin to identify more with our shortcomings than with our triumphs. We feel trapped by our mistakes, and we are overwhelmed by the prospect of trying to fix seemingly insurmountable problems. As a result, we make do and get by in our lives; in doing so, we give up on our ambitions and aspirations. What we do not realize is that abandoning a vision is a betrayal. We betray our potential when we stop attempting to be our best selves. I betrayed myself when I settled for a pseudo-marriage and the pseudo-lifestyle that went with it. I betrayed myself when I convinced myself to be content having a steady income and moderate benefits. I betrayed myself when I neglected my body and my health, and I betrayed myself when I isolated myself from everyone in an attempt to conceal my pain.

I, like many others, almost let myself believe that it was too late, that I had lost that window of time in which I could move in new directions. I almost quit and declared defeat. If not for these three young children of mine, I might have gone down with just a whimper. However, I could not allow them to see their mother stymied by fear and inaction. I could not allow them to believe that mediocrity was good enough. Thus, I stood up for the first time in a long time and took a step toward a vision for a better life for myself. I began to write again. I began to reach out to family and friends. I began to take care of my physical and emotional well-being. Moreover, I allowed my intelligent, creative, and sexy self to reemerge. We can all learn from our negative experiences and grow into positive people. So happy to say, SHE IS BACK: I AM BACK. Abandoning my vision caused me to lose myself; hopefully, reclaiming my vision will lead me closer to the woman I might have been.

center stage magazine

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