What do you want?

What do you want? No, really, what do you want? It seems like a simple question at first glance but when you take a deeper glance, you realize just how loaded that question truly is. And some people know exactly what they want and can answer it somewhat easily. Then there are the people like me, who freak out because they don't really know. Or maybe they do and the answer scares them. Or the answer is too big or too different from what they can accept. Sometimes knowing what you want is overwhelming. Sometimes it's so different from where you started that you aren't ready yet to admit that.

What do I want? I think I kinda know. I want to be happy. I want to be at peace. I want financial freedom. I want to be fulfilled with my work. I want stacks of books, good food, and lots of laughs. I want people in my life who value me and respect me. I want to marvel at wondrous things. I want to smile in the sun and in the rain. I want to learn new things. I want regrets I can live with and choices that don't wrench my heart into pieces. I want nights under a starry sky with my lover. I want nights spent wrapped in blankets while the cool breeze dances across our faces. I want kisses and cuddles and inside jokes. I want laughter and music and dogs to fill our home. I want my chaotic family around me all the time.

Do I want kids? Yeah, sometimes I do. Sometimes I want kids so fucking bad that I can't breathe. But, yet, sometimes I'm ok that I don't have them. Sometimes I'm grateful that there isn't a tiny human depending on me.

It's really confusing to be on both sides of the fence. It's hurtful because my body is making the decision for me that kids aren't likely in the picture. It's upsetting that I'm use to not having kids of my own and the freedom that comes with that is rather nice. I'm happy and I have a full life despite being barren.

The real question is, will I always feel this way? Will I ever make peace with this? Will I regret not having them? Would I regret having them? Hard questions without easy answers. I just don't know what I want.

And sometimes I'm ok with that and sometimes it just really sucks.

Hopeful Cynic

I've always been a bit sarcastic, often times people have a hard time adjusting to my warped sense of humor. Or mistake my sarcasm for truth and blindly assume I'm serious and just an asshole. Ehh, sometimes I am though! In the throes of the IF stuff, I became very depressed, bitter, and angry. I was a ball of rage. I was dreadful to be around and just very lost. That nobody in my life had a "come to Jesus" talk with me is definitely a point of contention for me but that's a post for another day. I did eventually get on antidepressants and start therapy but it truly didn't get better for me until my divorce. Which I think is hilariously ironic.

After that, I was able to take a good look at myself and I hated what I saw, who I had become. I worked my butt off to change. I'm definitely not the unhappy, angry mess that I once was. My sister tells me often just how nice it is to have the old Amanda back. And while I'm not a bitter bitch anymore, I'm definitely not the full of hope, naive woman I once was either. Too much has happened, too many tears have been shed, and too much grief has dulled the rose colored glasses I tried so hard to keep on.

I don't really mind it either. I'm absolutely more cynical and still very sarcastic but I do have enough hope in me that I'm not exactly moping around like Eeyore. I'm a hopeful cynic, which to me means I'm realistic about how just very wrong everything can go but I'm hopeful that it won't. So I may joke a lot about marriage being awful but I'm hopeful that one day I'll actually want to be a Mrs again.

A hopeful cynic, I know it sounds like an oxymoron but it's my truth and I'm embracing it.