From my late teens to my late 20s, I had no life besides work.
I was a work addict. I had nothing on my mind besides working and then working some more. And then, when I was 27, I met a boy—and it got serious. Fast. We moved in together after just a few months. Yes, yes, “fools rush in.”
We were inseparable right away. We integrated our lives quickly, and it felt like “This is it, I met my future husband.” We never really talked about it, it just felt mutual and understood. Then, about a year in, I realized it might not be.
We were at a party, and a friend of his made an off-hand comment about my boyfriend not being ready to get remarried and have more kids (he already has a daughter from his first marriage). But instead of interjecting to correct her—“Of course I want more kids!”—my BF nodded in agreement.
Wait—what?! I felt like I got the shit kicked out of me. I was shocked and I was sad. When I brought it up later that night, he avoided a real conversation—and continued to avoid the topic for the next three years.
I went through a phase of “Well, I don’t even want to have kids anyway, so there.” Of course, it wasn’t true, but I still tried to convince myself. It was a defense mechanism that I used for about two years. And, then . . . I turned 30 and I had a panic attack. I couldn’t suppress my intense urge to have kids of my own anymore.
I became “baby crazy.” I went from trying to believe I didn’t want any kids to wanting four or five. The more my partner avoided the kid conversation or committing to it, the more terrible I felt. I was so mad at him.
The thing is, I wasn’t wrong to be mad. But I was wrong about who I was mad at. I shouldn’t have been mad at him. I should have been mad at myself.
We were nearing four years of being together and we still hadn’t had a serious talk about our future. I had tried, sure, but when he wouldn’t take the bait, I backed off. I guess I was too afraid of losing him altogether.
What I really should have been afraid of was waiting for my dude to decide my future. But I did. It was dumb. And it certainly wasn’t very Boss Bitch of me.
Don’t do what I did. Don’t be in denial about your desires. Express them, and, if you have to, stand-up and fight for what you want.
xo,
