The Girl Without A Face

I woke up late today, but it’s Saturday, so time is relative. I’d like to get out the door and get moving. Complete my new Saturday morning routine. My weekends dont include anyone else, they rarely, if ever, include plans with friends nowadays. Every once in a while I’ll have something on a Saturday. Or my son will have a performance one weekend. One that I may or may not attend alone as well.

I’m content though, it’s not that I don’t fill my days. I rarely feel lonely, though sometimes that feeling does come in waves. My son is home 100% of the time with me. It’s hard to feel lonely completely when you always have someone to hear from. About their day. What they want to eat. If they want to watch something with you on TV. It breaks up the monotony. I enjoy my alone time, but everyone needs someone to love. And that loves them back. My person just so happens to be my child who I’m so proud of. He’s well adjusted, now in the middle of 11th grade. We’re talking about colleges. It won’t be long before our dynamic is forever changed.

There was a long time that I lived in survival mode because I had to. I had him. Then I had a breakdown, and the requirement of that breakdown was to find myself. And now, now I enjoy his company. I’m relishing in all the things I have to do. I’ve recently worked through any past resentments of what I had to give up to get to this point as a young mom. Not that I ever held anything against him, but I had to acknowledge the anger I felt to never have had the opportunity to find myself for so long. Or to have never had help raising him. It was never that I didn’t want him, he was the one who saved me. He was the only love I had surrounded by selfishness.

But now I’m able to fully embrace it again, being a mom. If I’m being honest, I’ve loved every amazing, heartbreakingly difficult moment of it so far. I couldn’t have asked for a better child. I get to continue to watch him grow up, move on. Live his dreams, meet people, hopefully meet the love of his life, be successful, do what he loves, have let downs, build resilience. I’ll be there for him every step of the way. But behind the mask of happiness for him, is the reality of fear for me. What’s next? What does life look like alone? Where do I go from here? How will it feel to be completely on my own?

In a very real sense I think its important for me to continue to focus solely on him for the next year and a half. These are crucial years in a teenagers life, and there is no one else that will be doing it for him. There is also no where else I’d rather be. So maybe that’s my calling. Maybe I start meeting people, start dating, once my son is off to college. In many ways it makes sense. It’s not like I wouldn’t be open to possibilities until then. But while he’s preparing for that, I’ll be preparing myself as well. To reenter the world. Maybe I’ll be doing a graduation of my own. Maybe I’m still in somewhat of a cocoon. And by then I’ll be ready to emerge. Completely transformed. If nothing else, it sounds like a good story.