Motherhood + Dreaming
My mind has been on an interesting ride this past week. I have been reevaluating my life plan, uprooting and replanting, something I find has happened to me quite a bit in the past two years. My adaptability score has reached an all-time high, as I learn that trust can be broken, even in the most reliable people. To say it in short, I am still hurting, but I am healing. Which brings me to the subject of dreams.
When I was thirteen, I wanted to be Meryl Streep’s character of Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. She was the epitome of style and power to me. I was not afraid of her cold-hearted stare or her career-driven life. I wanted to command a work environment and look fabulous doing so. It’s still something I would probably enjoy doing. The point is, although Miranda had a family in the movie, I was interested in leading a single life. My life would consist of a loft apartment, an incredible job, all of the shoes I wanted, and free nights to do whatever I pleased. This sounded really good until around my senior year of high school. I had been accepted at the Tribeca Flashpoint Academy in Chicago and was one step closer to my dream of being a filmmaker, writing screenplays and directing actors, something I was extremely passionate about.
By chance, I was able to meet one of the art directors of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. He was one of the youngest art directors (for the life of me I cannot remember his name, and they don’t have photos of most crew members on IMDb. sigh.) in the industry and was giving a small lecture on working in the film industry. At the end of his seminar he opened the floor for questions. When I was chosen, I asked what his day-to-day life was like. His answer changed my entire perspective. He said he didn’t have a family, something he regretted, but he loved his job. He spent his days working, only getting two or three hours of sleep, and then was on to the next job. He only saw his parents and siblings once a year. I didn’t want that! I wanted a family and babies! I didn’t really understand it then, but I was reaching for simplicity. A life of fame was something that I didn’t think I could handle, at least not without someone experiencing it by my side. A life of loneliness seemed uninspiring, a life not lived.
Now, my dreams have changed again. A week ago, I was set. I wanted four more babies, a white house with flower boxes and worn wood floors, a front porch with a swing, little wood framed beds and soft, patchwork quilts, stuffed animals and mismatched socks that never seem to get put away, busy days playing in the sun and lazy nights watching a favorite movie with my babies and my husband. Well, that’s not going to happen, at least not any time soon. And it was heartbreaking. I had a moment of, what the hell am I going to do now. Because this business couldn’t possibly amount to me paying for EVERYTHING all on my own! Not the big stuff, right? The real things.
Well, I am punching that doubt in the damn face. This business will be my new dream. And I will have that white house, but smaller, cozier. It will be mine and my boy’s. We will live in a hoard of plants and knit blankets. We will eat homemade bread with jam for lunch and have our favorite movies we watch every night before bed. We will read each other books as we fall asleep. We will spend days exploring our own yard and the rolling Iowa hills. We will go on our own adventures and discover new towns and cities. We will backpack through the Olympic National Forest and camp out under the stars. Together. Why would I spend so much energy on wondering what I would do without a man, when I have a little one I am raising right beside me? Dreams can die, but they can always be restored. Here is to dreams.