23 years ago – my hair was shorter, my hips thinner; my butt less fluffy and there were no distinguishing crinkles around my eyes.
I was going to buy a camera ( I was making big bucks as a beer and bait girl) and travel the world as an award winning photo journalist.
My wardrobe would be filled with peasant shirts, colorful scarves, faded Levi’s and cowboy boots. My underwear would only come from Victoria’s Secret. My name would be changed to something more artsy or bold – Charlie, Fiona or Tallulah. I was going to take Italian lovers. Make dinner of gelato and wine and not dine till after 10 p.m. I was going to live in the spotlight. Write gritty, raw pieces about the human condition. Please note…. There were no children in this picture.
I’m holding down a teal colored hallway tile as I write this. Back against the wall. While Girl Wonder is practicing with her Honors Orchestra.
These days I’m more likely to choose gelato over an Italian lover. And my love affair with wine ended in an ugly way many years ago.
My calendar’s packed with dates that aren’t my own. I argue with a teenager about research papers and dirty socks that mysteriously appear under kitchen chairs. I’m master of chauffeuring and the hurry up and wait game.
And I’m sitting here laughing. Thinking of that younger me and where she wanted to go. She would probably flip her long gypsy wild hair at me. Roll her eyes. And snort.
Bless her heart she didn’t have a clue.
She didn’t know she’d get sidetracked. Backtrack. Get lost and turned around.
She couldn’t have imagined she’d grow big as a house and talk to her belly. And eventually be handed a wee little girl who looked like a frog. She didn’t know that the minute she grabbed the frog baby – everything would change. (I’m pretty darn sure her imagination did not stretch that far)
Not just the 6 pack abs or the perky boobs. But her heart. Her heart would stretch and stretch. Beating rhythms of happy joy at this life that landed her in lap.
She hadn’t yet figured out that the biggest and truest things happen in the wings. Far far away from the blinding spotlight.