I was to be independent, creative, a free-thinker, who chased after my dreams with passion and verve, and would achieve the dream of so many - to indeed, have it all, fulfilling career and life purpose (which where I grew up were one and the same - thank god I moved to the west coast for a while and got some other perspective on that one), phenomenal wealth, enduring health, get married, have an adoring family that was stable, happy, and successful in all their endeavours, and maybe become a whole and happy person, satisfied with all of my choices in life.
And that was all well and good. The key to a lot of that it seemed, was to put myself first, satisfy my needs, my desires, not sacrificing my goals and wants for anyone else's - as perhaps, they felt they did, and certainly, their parents did before them They didn't want for me to have to do that. That was an integral part of the suburban dream.
And they were not alone. My friends and I - we had it all when were kids, really. Some might even have called us spoiled (though the spoiled kids really lived in the next town over - when they turned 16 they got new cars, as we all got the hand me downs because our parents wanted new cars). We didn't really want for anything. Sometimes we had to plead a bit, and maybe do an extra chore or two, but our parents thought a lot of happiness came in a box, and maybe to some extent it did, at least when you're 12, it works for a short time, and well, that's all we knew. Until our therapists told us differently.
But don't get me wrong - our parents were there too. They came to our plays and our games and our meets and our ceremonies - that was important to them, because their parents couldn't do it for them. And that was part of the package as well. And to us, that was a given. Our moms and dads, even if they were divorced - which started becoming pretty popular when I was a kid, showed up when and where they were supposed to, generally. We rarely doubted that.
And for the most part, I like to think, they were successful in their plan. I'm a pretty happy person, an independent person, satisfied with most of my choices, relatively stable emotionally, have a beautiful family, home, blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda. As are most of my peers - in the relative grand scheme of things.
At least on the surface. Here's where the reconciling issue begins to become evident.
Per the plan, we all became parents. Older, wiser, parents, having experienced some more of what the world has to offer than the previous generation before settling down. The most educated, aware, informed, and responsible (sometimes to a fault) parents of any generation.
Most of my peers can rattle off any given Conusmer Reports list on the safest car seat, stroller, or portable swing. We know our babyproofing checklists and poison control numbers by heart. We introduce new foods one at a time, days apart, and take copious notes of our children's reactions to them. We shake our heads at the mere suggestion of riding a bicycle without a helmet (though we didn't even know what one was besides for either playing football or for the epileptic kid down the block when were kids). We are diligent to an extreme. At least for our first children, that is - but that's a whole other story.
But what doesn't come in a book, or a checklist, or a manual, or baby prep class is this - and it's no great revelation, and seems like a big "duh", but is surprisingly easy to forget or to misinterpret - being a parent, essentially, is about putting someone else's needs before yours.
I'm not talking about the seniors at the home who can't see any more and need someone to read to them weekly. Nor the homeless folk waiting for their turn at the food line, but have to wait because there's not enough staff.
I'm talking about needs of basic survival on a minute-by-minute basis. Someone's very existence, at least for the first few years, depends entirely on you and your ability to meet (and hopefully exceed), at least, their basic needs of food, water, sleep, and shelter.
If you're on your way to get that slice of pizza you've been craving for two
weeks and someone decides it's nap time, no matter how hungry you are - you turn around and go home.If you finally get a pair of those sold-out-for-months tickets to the
farewell tour of your all time favorite band, and someone begins projectile
vomiting and needs to be held for endless hours of seemingly inconsolable
crying, you give those tickets away.If "no" is not being understood or heard no matter how loud or sternly or
logically you express it, instead of resorting to more severe means, or
ending the relationship, you say it again, take a time out for yourself, and
regroup.
This selflessness does not fit in so well with the "me first" attitude we were raised with.
Each generation is more aware than the prior, and that's what's caused this glitch. Our parents, as they came into adulthood, realized the sacrifices their parents made, often putting themselves last, giving up their hopes and dreams, and sadly, often becoming bitter about it. And they feared it for themselves and with foresight, didn't want their children to grow up with that destiny ahead of them.
And that's not such a bad thing, really. But in their earnest, the equation got unbalanced, and we became a test generation of sorts. A group of people raised on untested beliefs. Beta testers, so to speak, running a new program with no template, no proven variables: Be everything you can be and more, do whatever you can to follow your dreams, let nothing stop you from your bliss.
So here we are:
Me first + perserverance = having it "all" - we'll call this Subset A
Me maybe not always so first + patience = having a family - Subset B
Subset A + Subset B = What the hell happened to my life and can I find the place between and truly be happy?
I don't have the answer yet. But I'm working on it.
