I used to plan. I used to be a planner. There was always a Plan A, and when Plan A didn't work out, I brushed my shoulders off and moved on to Plan B. Then Plan C, D or E, if necessary. I suppose what that should have told me was that there was really no point to planning, as I had control over nothing. But the semblance of control was enough. The wheels never stopped turning, my mind never stopped imagining possibilities.
Professionally, this mostly remains true. Because I'm in law school during an economic downturn, it's absolutely necessary that I have a contingency plan. It would be foolish not to have one. Even though I can predict nothing about my professional life, if you were to ask me where I see myself in five or ten years, I would have an answer for you. And it wouldn't be a bullshit response because I believe in my five- and ten-year plans.
Personally, I can't see beyond my own nose. I used to plan. In high school, I knew that I wanted to be married by 26. I turn 26 in July. I gave up on that plan when I turned 22 and realized 26 was four years down the road. In high school, I also knew I wanted to have kids by 28-30. I suppose that's still mostly true. By the time I graduated from college, the plan was to be married by 28, with kids by 30-31. I actually think that's quite reasonable; just pointless. And it's not that planning
isn't pointless - it is and it isn't. It isn't because planning takes you from Point A to B. It pushes you forward, and compels you to reassess the present on a variety of levels. It is because just about everything is out of your hands.
A professional plan works because I have control over the courses I take; the networks I create; the jobs I seek and choose, etc.. I have no control over those who wake up one day and tell me they're no longer interested; or they're interested, and have been for awhile, but cannot do long distance. I have no control over the course of my own emotions. Maybe one day I will again tell someone that I used to love that I no longer love him. Maybe I will do so callously, and without emotion, because I simply do not care. Or maybe, next time, I will be just as stunned as he at my change of heart. There are simply too many variables - accounted and unaccounted - that make planning seem absolutely absurd. So, maybe this isn't a bad thing?
Perhaps it reflects a growing awareness about myself or life, in general. Perhaps it's me growing wiser, even if only marginally. Whatever the case may be, I also see it as a sort of loss. I used to plan because I used to be hopeful and optimistic about love. It's possible that what I am feeling now is the middle ground, but the change has a bitter flavor, and is laced with terror. I suppose you could now classify me as the non-believing romantic because I know that shit exists, but I don't believe it exists
for me. And I can't tell you why. I know what my daddy issues are. I know what (some of) my man issues are. And I do not think they fully explain this. I do not believe in my own happy ending.
I think it's telling that I've always seen myself as a mother before seeing myself as a wife. I've always chalked this up to my mother being a single parent - she was my example. I'm certainly not discrediting that theory, and I think a strong case can be made for it, but I also think it has something to do with a general uncertainty I have about men. I do not trust them (Cue daddy issues). I do not believe in their ability to protect me anymore than I am able to protect myself (and honestly, why should I?). But growing up, I drank the kool-aid about love, life, marriage, and picket fences. I'm from a very lovely suburban town in Maryland, where white picket fences, yorkie terriers, and disturbingly friendly people exist - of course I drank the kool-aid. I swam in it.
Mother before wife. Never wife before mother. Or mother
and wife. Just mother. Because I've believed in the certainty of a child's love for her mother. I've believed in the fierceness with which a mother loves and cares for her child. This love is real to me. This love isn't remote or imagined. This love transcends the happy ending. But at the same time, I have to question my desire to have children. It's a selfish desire; one that stems from a need to be loved and love in return. Wholly. Fully. Selflessly. I've always wanted children. I've had brief moments of complete disdain, where I've found them to be bratty little monsters, but these moments were fleeting. I've even settled into a feeling of actually being ready to have children, even though I'm not at a place in my life where I think it would be appropriate for me (that place = law school).
But now, during these late night ramblings, I think I have reached the conclusion that I'm nowhere near "ready." I don't want the reasons I stated above to be the reasons. A good reason cannot be wanting children because I can't envision any other happy ending for myself. That is a very very bad reason. This obviously doesn't mean that thinking I won't find love or get married necessarily precludes the possibility that I'll have children. The two really have nothing do to with each other, but I won't consider myself ready until I can divorce the two in my mind and fully articulate my reasons for wanting children.
So, where does this leave me? Cynical. Yes, definitely. Jaded. Yes, definitely. Without any sort of plan for my personal life. Yep, pretty much. And I think this is where I need to be right now in my life. I don't know why, and I don't need to know why. My only takeaway is that I can't plan anymore.
Planning seems to have been unsafe. Planning seems to have been the modus operandi of the more confident, optimistic me.
