Our lives, and the expectations and realities of our lives change all the damn time. A short two years ago I was home with our tiniest, and loving every minute of it. Now I have all the great things to do, in addition to raising the tiny humans. I have all the great responsibilities and pressures that come with the choices to continuously add all the great things to my adult life.
The additions are kinda awesome, and I’ll save you all from the “I am blessed” speech. You know it’s good. I know it’s good. We are good.
We might even be thriving. Although 2016 has been challenging AF, it’s still kinda awesome. I mean I gave a commencement speech – that’s some cool shit.
What I was unaware of as our lives change is that I might be lonely. (I am surrounded by some amazing people that I am so fortunate to call my friends, and a crazy family that continues to support Finn in all the insanity.)
This is an existential loneliness… #firstworldproblems
I simply didn’t expect that the next few years might lonely. I didn’t realize that my stories would be less significant, less valued, less listened too. I didn’t realize I was making choices to add things to my life that do not align with values and choices of many people. (Family Phrase: Different families make different choices.) I didn’t realize that the older I get, and the more nuanced my choices are might mean that less people will care about them. Even the people I love the most.
When I completed my undergrad at TrinColl I befriended the sweetest and kindest group of young women (10 years younger, and we drank coffee in expert solidary). I don’t have that same comradery these days.
When I was newly at TRCC I was surrounded by fellow colleagues begging students to please just learn how to write. I don’t have that same comradery these days.
I have a paper to write. Research to conduct. Data to analyze. Courses to attend. Another paper to earn, and increases in enrollment in my program. For me, it all has to matter. It all has to contribute to the discourse.
I guess I didn’t know that loneliness might be a reality of my heart craving need to produce meaningful work.
With love, Finn