Ch…ch…ch…Changes…

by Susan Lee of Diary of a MidLife Crisis

Last night, for the first time in almost 20 years, I finally felt like I owned my life. It was a simple night. Made some angel hair pasta with diced tomatoes, garlic, onion, garlic bread. Nothing fancy but really delicious. Then I sat on the couch and ate some ice cream right out of the carton, watching my new big screen TV (actually Dean’s old big screen TV). My roomie was over at her boyfriend’s so it was just me and Twyla. Roomie’s cat was hanging out in her room so not even an extra cat was distracting.

And suddenly, I realized that this is truly the beginning of my life. MY life. I could do whatever I wanted – which turned out to be doing nothing at all, really. No one would yell at me for doing nothing, no one would accuse me of being lazy. It’s all about me, now. Which is kind of scary.

I left my now-ex-husband four years ago to build a life that I wanted. A life that would be fulfilling. A life that would be filled with love and joy and wonder. A full, complete creative life with no limits. Well, I should know that is an impossibility but at least I wanted to get as close as I could.

It’s been a long struggle over these past four years (in June, it’ll be four years). Never quite feeling like my feet are under me as I lived with a temporary roommate and then in a sublet, which I knew was a short-lived adventure, and then with my folks. I’ve never quite felt like I could do what I wanted to do without feeling guilty about ignoring someone or letting someone down. Don’t ask me who I was feeling guilty about or ignoring, but the lingering effects of living with a selfish, controlling, self-absorbed man for almost 20 years don’t go away overnight.

I realize now that I have been scared for the past four years. Scared that I made the wrong decision. After all, why did I think I could build a life without him when I couldn’t build a life with him? Why did I deserve to be happy, to be creative, to live the life I want to? How dare I?! Even all the films and shows I’ve done in the past four years have terrified me. What if I let someone down? What if they’re not really that good? It’s terrifying when you actually start to see your dreams come true.

I have a lot of unfinished things lurking around me. I think it’s because I’m scared to finish them. I feel like I need permission or approval or something before I put the final touches on things. I don’t know whose permission I need. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I know that there is a strong fear of failure, whether I finish these things or not. If I finish and it’s not good, then I’m a failure. If I don’t finish, then I’m a failure. If I do finish… I don’t know how to finish that sentence.

Now, I have a clean palette in front of me. No more responsibility to my parents, which has been hanging over me almost ever since I stepped out on this adventure. I’m the one who’s been here to take care of them and I feel I owe them for what they’ve done for me. Not in a negative way but in the way a child feels obligated to return the love to the parents that they’ve shown her. But with them gone now, there’s this weird void, this emptiness that I didn’t expect. I’m so used to giving to them that now I don’t know what to do now that they’re in Minnesota.

My challenge now is to channel that energy into myself, something I have never been encouraged to do. I have always been taught to focus my energy on someone else, not on me. I don’t deserve to focus on myself, that would be selfish. Focus on everyone else, make everyone else happy, and then, maybe there’ll be a little left over for me. And I should be happy if everyone else is happy, right?

So the rest of this year is learning to change the focus to me. To my career. To finishing the ends of things that I’m afraid to finish. To truly finding the life that I left my old one to find. To be selfish, in the best possible way. To fill me and find me and make me happy. And I think that’s scarier than anything I’ve ever done before. But it’ll be worth it.