Ok - so, cliques. Totally high school right? So how come, even though I am almost 30 years old, and starting to worry I may not be able to identify with my teenage children, when I finally have them... how come am I still dealing with it all now?!?!?! I was always hoping that it would pass, as adolescence did, as did early university years, my early 20's and... my more innocent days. But here it is - constantly and consistantly staring me in the face.
Mainly from out of facebook's html frames.
I have expressed, in numerous tweets, how I will NEVER go on facebook, ever again. Even D reminded me about 15 min ago (as I hastily checked a fb email from a friend I knew back in elementary school, who tagged me in a pic of me when I was about 9 yrs old. GREAT.) that I swore - NEVER AGAIN! One too many pregnancy announcements, storybook weddings, fairytale vacations, and ab-so-fucking-lutely one to many of "those girls" on my list. (for those twitter amigas and amigos who wanted to exchange facebook's with me - there you have it... the reason why I won't).
I went to a highly prestigious, very competititve, all girls private school. I started there in gr. 7 and did 5 years (fast-tracked and did 6 years in 5, which pretty much drove me to insanity!) And, as a result of being in this environment during some of the more formative years of my life, my facebook is now filled with high acheiving, mostly quite wealthy, women - who all started
Ok- so let me step back a moment and say - I really do believe that all my high school girlfriends worked extremely hard to get where they got. And despite the fact that I have my moments of insane jealousy (which helps the muse fusing this particular post), I know that I too, if I had made different choices (some of them haven't really felt like choices) and basically, if I had led a different post-high school life, I too could have been in their shoes. Or at least closer. Some had a lot more advantages than I did - my parents had to work really hard to put me through that type of school - and they never let me forget it, nor did I have things handed to me.
But I worked god damn hard too. I had horrid jobs, I started from scratch, without help from my parents, or anyone really... and even when I was at my lowest points mentally&emotionally I still supported myself and was never homeless or starving. Or into hard drugs. It's not fair that some of the choices I made due to my (now past) mental illness are now coming back to bite me in the ass every time I "login"....
I want to be able to travel to different destinations around the world every year (or every few months!)
(I have travelled quite a bit in my life, but not at all in the last 10 years)
I want to have beautiful pictures of family and friends dressed up to celebrate my wedding.
(I am really learning the "art and skill" involved in being a wife - which is why I call D my DH... but we are still just common-law husband & wife)
I want to have proud new mommy pictures and turn my fb page into an online shrine for my child (with the odd pic of me in the mix at some point)
(well.... we all know the lovely long infertiliy story that goes behind this one)
and so... longer story made shorter.... I am still not in the right "clique".
I'm not a mom.
I'm not a carefree spirit roaming the earth trying to find myself, or at the very least, make things better.
I'm not even techically a wife.
So who am I?
I'm not sure... but the woman whom I find when I finally figure that out, I'm sure that she'll be stronger for having asked these types of questions.
And I do try to help the earth in what measly ways I can - I recycle, when I do work as a decorator I try to use only eco-friendly products/manufacturers, I used to ride my bike everywhere (pre fibromyalgia & endometriosis)...and I plan to use cloth diapers when my TTC dream is finally realized...
So I'm not that bad, from what I do already know :p
Final thought? Even in our darkest hours, there is a lesson learned. No regret, no looking back, move forward and things will enivitably be as they should be*.
*a lesson I learned (but am still trying to LIVE) when I was in dialectical behavior therapy. I used it as a mantra for a while. It helped me.