For the past year I’ve been going into work and thinking, “This is not what I am meant to do with this life.” But I do it anyways, because I don’t know what else to do, and I’m scared to quit. But it’s finally taking its toll on me, and it’s making me question and doubt so much in my life.
And then I wonder, what am I supposed to do? Write? Bake? Be a mother? Well I’m trying to write, and it’s not an easy journey; that’s not to say it’s not worth it, it’s just not easy.
I bake, yes. I love it. It’s calming (most of the time). But it’s hard to make a living (at least in my state) as a baker, especially with no professional experience.
I hate that this job is keeping me from pursuing my other goals, but I look at the bills in my inbox and think, “Dreams don’t pay the bills.” Is that the kind of person I’m becoming? “Dreams don’t pay the bills?!” Who is that person? “A realist” you say. Or someone who is dying inside, along with her dreams. Well I refuse to let those dreams die.
When I think about dreams that I’ve had since I was a little girl, I’m overwhelmed at everything I wanted to be: A Pampered Chef consultant (thanks Mom), a singer, a world famous violinist, a fashion designer, a model, a lawyer, a writer, a baker, and I’m still missing some.
You’ll notice that being a mother isn’t on that list. But that doesn’t mean it’s because I didn’t want to do it. It’s because that was a given. Dolls were my favorite toys, playing House was my favorite game, and I pretended to be talking to my children for much longer than was probably socially acceptable. In elementary school I had my four children’s names picked out. I would go home from a playdate if I didn’t get to be the mom in House, or if my friends wanted to be the family pet instead of my child (I was kind of a brat…) and to this day, I’ve always wondered if the career path I’ve been on will allow me to be the kind of mother I want to be.
Many of my readers know, that adulting hasn’t been easy on me. If only because I can’t figure out what I want to do. What’s my purpose when I’m not in school? I was good at school, I enjoyed it, and I haven’t been able to find anything that made me feel good like school did. But last night I had a weird dream.
I was at my college graduation when I went into labor (I didn’t know I was pregnant but in the dream I didn’t seem too concerned). Alex and I went to a hospital room and I had the baby, with only his help. There were no doctors, just me, him, and eventually our little girl. I held the baby and started crying. Alex started crying and wanted to take a picture of us, because she was “just like me.” I was very concerned about learning how to nurse (rightfully so, as there were no doctors around). But Alex shushed me and kissed my head. Then we went out to graduation, I handed the baby to my dad and said, “Hold her while I graduate.” He asked how I did it so quickly and without doctors, but I was already in my seat for graduation.
I walked across the stage, picked up my baby and then continued to worry about nursing.
I woke up and wondered what that dream could have meant. Was I saying goodbye to one purpose, and welcoming the next? Was I just overthinking it? Who knows? It just seems like a strange coincidence to have that dream in the midst of my search for a purpose.
Being a mother is not a simple life purpose. Not only can you not do it alone, (literally, at the least you need someone else to donate the parts) but you have to be 100% ready. I am not. So in the meantime, I’m going to continue to write, and hope to get a job that feels a bit more fulfilling than my current position. When the time is right, something better will come along.
And when the time is right, I’ll know my purpose. And I’ll feel fulfilled.
When the time is right.