As we grow older, parts of ourselves can surface that we never intended to meet.
Getting Older
In my teens, I looked at women over 30 or 40 dancing at clubs or rocking out at concerts with a mix of pity and disgust. My friends and I would whisper, "Ugh, why does that old lady come hang with the young crowd?" Now, at 38, I still go out partying: I’m the one the younger crowd looks at with pity—and honestly, I don’t mind.
The Rolling Pin
I never imagined myself as the kind of woman who would greet her husband with a rolling pin just because he popped out for a few beers with his buddies. After all, everyone deserves a break, right? Then came the kids. On a typical day, I drop them at school, rush to work, shop, pick them up, cook dinner, help with homework, read bedtime stories, and then wash dishes exhausted—while my husband stumbles in tipsy from a drink with friends. At times like that, I feel like smashing that rolling pin over his head.
Sugar Mommy
My mom’s friend Mariann had a much younger husband, and behind her back, we joked she was a “sugar mommy” and teased her with silly sayings. Now, I’m Mariann’s age and have been living with my boyfriend for two years—who’s 14 years younger than me.
Bitterness
I never wanted to be a nagging wife, always dreading that irritating and common female stereotype. Then I got married and realized I’d judged unfairly—it’s not women who are nagging, but lazy men. Of course a woman gets naggy if she’s doing everything while the man just drifts along...
Sex
I never understood how people live in sexless marriages or what women expect when they don’t sleep with their partners. When I met my husband, we couldn’t get enough of each other, and our sex life stayed intense for the first five years of marriage. Then came our daughter, then our son, and I simply had no energy for sex. How could I, when I barely knew which way was up and hadn’t slept through a night in three years? When my husband tried, I pushed him away tired or sometimes angry, frustrated that he didn’t understand I just couldn’t do it right now. My libido vanished, and with it, the love between us.
Priorities
My mom was a career woman; my brother and I barely saw her as kids because she was always working and traveling. Our dad and grandma raised us, and I resented mom for neglecting the family for her job. Four years into my marriage—still in the happy phase—two things happened at once: my mother-in-law broke her leg and needed care, and I got a job offer abroad. I’d like to say I agonized over it, but honestly, it was never a question—I packed and left. I didn’t look back and even handled my divorce from the new country, where I still enjoy my new role.
Abandoned
I never imagined leaving my family behind. Our neighbor Patricia did when her son was 16; she ran off with a mechanic. Her husband completely broke down, and the whole neighborhood called her a selfish witch—including me. Then I did the same when my son turned 17. My marriage was unhappy, and my relationship with my child was never good, but I played the happy wife and mom for twenty years until I couldn’t take it anymore. Now I live with my massage therapist in a small apartment, and I’ve never been happier.
Worry
My mom was the classic anxious, over-worrying mom. She never let me go anywhere alone and lived in chronic anxiety. If we went sledding in winter, she was the only parent who came down and fidgeted on the bench watching us slide down the hill. If we fell, she’d rush over shouting and send us home. Everything was dangerous to her: I couldn’t climb trees, swim with the others, and even in high school, I had to be home before dark—which in winter meant 4 p.m.
Even then, I promised myself I wouldn’t be like that. I’d be the cool mom my kids’ friends envy. Then my little boy fell from a climbing frame and cracked his head a bit, and my daughter had an asthma attack at the pool. Those two events flipped a switch, and I became my mom overnight. My husband and I argue a lot about it; he thinks I’m overprotective and too strict, but I can’t help it—I’m so scared something will happen to them, I’d rather never let them out of the house…
