have a good life. I’m healthy and happy. I have two really great young adults. I have a nice boyfriend and loving parents. I have a home, virtually mortgage free. I have my own successful business which causes me little stress. I commute in an old, but fun sports car. I have interesting holidays and time to see my wonderful friends.
So why the hell would I give up my work and my home and leave my family and friends for an alternative life?
Personal life experiences have shaped me. I’ve had family members who have retired at 60 and died at 63 and friends lost suddenly, too young, aged 32 and 51. My father was going to travel the world once I was “off his hands”, but when I was 17 he had a massive heart attack followed by a heart transplant and the only travelling he really did after that was to hospital appointments. We don’t know what’s in store for us, so it’s not a surprise that I have a desire to live in the present and I do not put off for tomorrow what I can do today.
Armand seems to have drunk from the fountain of youth but, he is my older man and age may quickly catch up on us, so there is some urgency to undertake adventurous travel whilst we both have the energy and our health.
Perhaps, I’m just insatiable. A personality flaw. I have as the French poet Baudelaire wrote, “La grande maladie de l’horreur du domicile.”, a horror of the home and the ordinary. I need something more exciting and motivating than the traditional, domestic life.
It could be my hormones. My stores of that “caring’ hormone Estrogen, that has given me a nurturing and maternal nature, are depleting fast. Perhaps, I am becoming more egocentric. My young adults are quite rightly, self absorbed at the moment. After years of responsibility and putting others first, it’s now time to do what I want to do.
Because I can. I’m giving myself a hearty pat on the back for twenty years of hard work. It’s easy to raise feral children, but to create happy, well balanced, respectful children to adulthood takes time and effort. My two are very capable young adults. They can cook healthy meals, use the washing machine and study and go to work off they’re own back without the need for me to encourage them or organise them. I’m not a controlling mother. Upon turning 16, I’d advise them when help was requested and I’ll always be there for them, but in my mind, their future is of their own making. I can go, because my job is done.
So “Why the hell am I doing this?”
Just like the tall, handsome, marine biologist, ski instructor, date for whom I had high hopes, but who just didn’t cut the mustard when I met him – just because it’s perfect on paper, doesn’t mean it’s right. I might have a good life but it’s not quite right for me at the moment.
I was once patted on the back and told that life was going to turn out “fine”. In my opinion, life’s too short for it to be “fine”. I’ll keep striving for it to be “fabulous”.
Written September 2019