I recently spent a week back east, visiting my family. In the 12 years I've lived in Colorado, I've found myself making the journey back "home" at least once a year for either a wedding, a reunion, or most recently, a burning desire to see my precious nephews, whose childhoods I am completely missing out on because I live so far away.
Although I love my family and friends and it's always wonderful to see them, the last few times I've visited I end up feeling so sad and miserable by the third day, I can't wait to leave. It's difficult to pinpoint exactly why, though I think it's becoming clearer. It's as though everything there has changed, yet nothing has changed and I'm caught somewhere in the middle.
When I am in Colorado, living my life, I am generally happy. I have friends and interests and goals and I don't question every life choice I've ever made. Then I go there. Suddenly, I'm seeing people I knew a hundred years ago, and while they are still living in the same area where we grew up and in some cases, are working the same jobs, they've gotten married, bought houses and had babies. I tried my hand at this "normal", grown-up type of life, but it didn't stick. So now, after years of always feeling so mature, I instead feel like a confused teenager being pressured to evaluate my life and make decisions I don't feel equipped to make.
Another thing about the area where I grew up? Babies. Babies as far as the eye can see. I swear it's something in the water. Every time I turn around, someone else is preggo. And here's the thing about babies.... unless you have one of your own, you will soon find that you have absolutely nothing to talk about with those that do. It's all breast-feeding and stretchmarks; daycare and poo. I'm interested in these things to an extent due to my naturally morbid curiosity about all things gross/unfamiliar. However, I can guarantee they don't give a rip about the new cocktail I created at work, or my most recent trip to Vegas. They say things like: "We're about to refinance our mortgage at a really great rate!" and "Our youngest just said his first words!".
Meanwhile, I'm like: "Yeah, my boyfriend's in a death metal band....."
When I sit back and take all this in, it once again makes me question what I want or don't want. I'm pretty sure I don't want to be 60 years old at my child's high school graduation because I waited for the "perfect" time/guy. Nor do I want to be one of those chics that gets knocked up accidentally/on purpose with any old dude that happens to swing by on ovulation day just because the clock is ticking.
Rock------Me------Hard place.
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