Once upon a time

Once upon a time I had a dream.  But it's shattered.  Since most of my adult life has been pretty much about my husband and kids, I found myself looking at the future and wondering who I really am.  Do I even have an identity outside the person I've become as a wife and mother?  I'm sure every mom who's dedicated themselves to not only raising their family but also homeschooling them goes through this.  Moms who've stayed home to be there when their kids needed them most instead of working at a job that gave them an identity.  I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, only that we decided I'd be a stay at home mom instead.  Not that I regret a moment of it or that I'd change a thing or even stop being those things...no, not at all.  I love those things.  But there's going to come a time when all those things are going to be less occupying than they are right now.  What then?  I'm left feeling a little vulnerable...worthless, maybe.   Invisible. 

I've been developing some of my interests into a more serious venue over the past 20+ years and I'd finally come to the place where I could begin to realize some dreams for the future...me...my personal future.  Not just little crafty dreams to occupy my time, but becoming the person I wanted to be. I love to learn new things and all the knowledge I've gained in this area was a really good background for the future me.  The things I wanted to leave behind for my family...not really to make a name for myself but just something that was unique to me...but I guess I'm just a fool.  I still have things I have to do for others first.  When I started to pursue my dream, I had to go slow and work around the other things in my life that I love...things that are important to me.  More important than me.  Then life took a few turns that needed all my attention.  And I had to put aside thoughts about the future me.  I was weak and needed all the strength I had just to maintain my home.  I couldn't be selfish...not now.  I thought I could just work at my own pace and by the time my children had graduated from high school, I would be ready to launch into something new...something that made me feel a little selfish because it was a special thing I was doing for myself.  Did I dare?  I wanted to be a person who was still needed...I found that I like to be needed...almost like a new person...a better person...a really useful person.

Sometimes I talk too much.  I thought I'd found something that I could do...be...that's exciting and just...me and I talk.  That's what most folks do when they are interested in something.  Then the next thing I know, someone's stolen my dream.  Someone I thought was a friend.  Jumped in and took my plans and left me standing here with no identity of my own.  There's no way that I can even begin to say how that makes me feel.  It hurts.  I feel betrayed.  Anything I try to do now will only be a shadow of someone else.  I've already been accused of trying to follow.  But it was my dream!  Mine!  But I talk too much.  I remember the greedy look on her face when she asked me, for the umpteenth time, what I was doing and I finally told her.  After I'd done all the digging, I just handed it to her.   So, what's left for me?  Right now it looks like that dream has died.  I feel really worthless now.  But I'm certain that she doesn't care...why should she care?  She has the dream.

Oh, I'm still a wife and mother and I don't mean to say that isn't important.  Again, I wouldn't trade the memories we've made for anything.  It's just that I really needed to find myself outside of that.  And to think that it's all my own fault for sharing and being excited about a dream makes me feel really stupid.  The first time in a long time that I've done something just for me; to try to find my place.  But now, I'm just lost.  Like one of those dolls without a face.