As a child I had many dreams. My main dream was to grow up, be successful in my career and to marry the man of my dreams, and have my own beautiful children.
The success of a job didn’t matter as much as having my own family. Of having the good fortune to be someone’s wife, and the honour of being a mother.
How different life actually is to dreams. The reality is that I seem to be ok in my career, but my dream of being a wife and mother is non-existent . I feel like I’m a defective piece. Someone nobody wants. Like I couldn’t be a good wife if I tried. That I couldn’t actually ever make it as a mother.
And it really hurts. I’ve never actually admitted to anyone that I dream of having my own family. Why do I feel so inadequate by not having a man in my life? Not having someone to share my life, my world with? It makes me feel like a failure.
Is true success only achieved by having it all, i.e. the perfect work life and the perfect home life?
Or is it all really to do our dreams, childhood dreams and not feeling fulfilled until you have achieved these?
Either way, the truth is I want to be married and have a husband. I want to be married and have a child. That’s my ultimate dream. It’s what every cell in my body wants. I want it so bad that it hurts. And it’s a dull ache, one that stops my breath and leaves me with that sickly feeling in my stomach.
Dreams are many, but only one holds any real significance. My eyes and heart dreams this dream so deeply, intensely and vividly. But this life is such, that the dream is just left like a deep black hole, never within reach or graced with the light of day.
©️BijM01, July 2018
Normal is not real 