Well, is it? Are any of you still out there? Does it really matter if you are?
Life’s been bumpy. No lie. I’ve been trying to find solace in journaling it out. But, I’m not very good at accountability when I’m the only one I’m accountable to. I also think I’m hopelessly a child of the Internet Age. Even if I’m only typing into a unresponsive void, the knowledge I’m typing it out in a place where someone, somewhere, sometime *might* find my words instills me with greater comfort than filling a leather-bound journal locked in a desk drawer. Maybe I don’t just marry narcissists? Maybe I’m a wee bit of one myself, too?
So, I’m here. I may jot some things down now and again. And, I can be fairly certain they won’t really be about infertility. I’ve got to thing of a new tag-line…
That said, “not when, but if” still feels pretty on point. I really can’t say “when” anymore, without grimacing at the possibility that that when will never come. When will I have romantic love and partnership in my life? When will I feel stability? Simply put, I might not.
But, there’s power in that. I have no idea where I’m heading. Nothing in my life has prepared me for anything that has happened in the past 18 months. I think I’m finally becoming my own person. Learning this new person. Exploring the edges of this new person. And, at 33, that feels pretty long overdue.