I have been pondering this question for quite some time now – Who am I?

I am 29 years old. You wouldn’t think this would be a question. By now, I should be together and know not only who I am, but where I am going too. Up until a little over 3 years ago, I knew exactly who I wanted to be.

I was going to be a strong business woman. I was not only going to be good at my job, but I was going to excell. I love working. I am really good at my job. I had a huge future in it and knew I would be happy with the outcome. Personally, I was also a strong woman. I wasn’t afraid to speak up. I told things how they were and didn’t worry about it. I was a nice person, honest and very reliable. I had my kniche cut out for me. I was happy. I did things the way I liked them done. I didn’t really cook, but got by just fine. I cleaned on my own time and in my own way. I had my free time and I had my time with my friends. I also had two wonderful cats at home that gave me the love I needed. Things were good. I had a very quiet apartment where I could read, watch tv and pretty much do whatever I wanted. I really didn’t have any obligations. When I felt the need to get out I called my sister. She was always going out. She was always doing something. She provided the escape I needed and most of the time, it was more than I bargained for.

One day I was at my sister’s apartment hanging out with some of her friends I realized I liked one of her guy friends. I was so shocked at how hard it hit me that I flew out of there – mid sentence. I ran for my life. I had never felt this way about anyone before. I was talking to him and all of sudden I was filled with this warmth. It just rushed over my body. I was scared. I didn’t need anything screwing up my life. I had just gotten out of a crappy relationship, a short one be it that, but one I still felt a small loss for too. I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this. I don’t need a man to fill me, to make my life better.

I spent the next week or so trying to avoid my sister and the guy I liked. My sister finally got fed up with me and my excuses. We played this game of sorts where I would want to stay home and enjoy my evenings and my sister felt I wasn’t getting out and having enough fun. She dragged me out to a dance club with her and her friends, and that guy.

I knew that this guy had been dating my sister’s best friend for over a year. That was actually how I met him. I was walking through the apartment complex and they waved me over. That night, I never actually saw his face. It was covered by a baseball cap and shadows. I never thought twice about it. He was just another flavor in this girl’s never ending guys.

That night, I went out I did my best to just stay away from him, but to no avail. He was such a charismatic guy. Just looking at his dimple smile makes me smile. I couldn’ t help but talk to him. He always made me laugh and smile. I gave in. Because it was my sister’s best friend who dated him before I knew he was off limits. So I told myself I was just going to be friends, which I felt gave me the freedom to just have fun that night. In the morning I woke up with a small hangover and a heavy heart. It was going to be hard, but I had worked through issues before. I could do it this time. I had no idea he wasn’t seeing that girl anymore. I had no idea he had noticed me.

The next weekend, the same thing happened. I spent the early part of my evening telling my sister that I wasn’t going to go out this Saturday night. I was tired. It didn’t work this time either. I went out. Only this time, he only had eyes for me. We spent most of the evening talking to each other. He danced with me. He and I were almost inseperable. I couldn’t have been happier.

Before I knew it, I was not only liking this guy, but falling deeply in love. And every moment I saw him brought me closer to the realization that my goals in life were changing. I started seeing myself having kids and being the soccer mom. Staying home and cooking dinners; eating around our table and talking endlessly about our days; going on family vacations with numerous pictures to remember them by; staying in bed on Sundays and snuggling under the covers; taking long evening walks; going to the park with a picnic lunch; having board game nights and basically doing many of the things I remember doing while I was growing up. But in my dreams, I wasn’t a kid any longer, I was the parent. I was the wife. I was the provider, the caretaker, the protector. I was no longer the one being taken care of, but rather taking care of other people.

It was shocking and incredibly scary, but I pushed that aside because the need for this lifestyle was greater. I would make it work. I always got what I wanted, if I wanted it bad enough. It would be great.

By the time I moved into his home with his full time son, I had charts and chore lists and so many ideas in my head. I transfered them to paper and began organizing the house I wanted and rearranging everything to the way I had pictured it. Needless to say, my attempts at controlling my husband and stepson weren’t appreciated. They said they wanted to participate and that my ideas were good, but when push came to shove neither one actually did anything. In fact I think they ran the opposite way.

Not to be defeated, I doubled my efforts.

And so did they.

A battle had ensued.

And it lasted over two years.

Today, I am coming to the quick realization that my vision of marriage and motherhood included a God-like mother and wife. Only attainable if you are in fact God himself. And I was not. Nor would I ever be. I also realize the expectations I had set for my husband and stepson were unattainable. And they were smart to give up early rather than try and be a failure.

I had set everyone up for failure. Especially myself.

Granted my husband and stepson didn’t help by running away rather than talking to me. But I am not sure there would have been anything they could have said to deter me.

I am a woman on a mission most days. And I have always worked my ass off to be the best I can be. Failure is not an option with me.

Unfortunately, my marriage came to that. It was failing. No matter how hard I tried to control the situation and make my marriage work, the faster it fell apart. And when I tried to let go, I felt like I was in the middle of a tornade screaming, but no one could help. All around me my life was going to pieces and I couldn’t do anything about it.

By the time I came to my senses I had left my husband and stepson. Thankfully, my husband wanted to try and see if we could work things out. We continued to go to counseling.

Today, I am much happier than I have been in a long time. So is my husband. We are lucky. The love we have together is greater that I ever knew. I am still living at my parent’s house and will until I, and my husband, are ready to move back in together.

We are working on ourselves, not each other. We are focus on ourselves and what we are doing wrong. Not on what the other has done. Pointing fingers is no longer an option.

I have realized how far I went under trying to be the woman I thought I needed to be for my husband and stepson. In all of it, I lost who I was.

I remember now.

I am a woman who loves life. I am a born learner. I love to learn anything new. I love the crispness of learning a new trait and becoming good at it. The more I stagger, the harder I try. This is good in hobbies and skills, but in marriage this doesn’t work. I am learning to control myself, and only myself because that is the only thing I can control. And yet, the more I let go of control over others, the more I seem to let go of myself. Which is a good thing. One thing I have always envied about my husband is his ability to enjoy life – to stop and smell the roses. He doesn’t worry about most things, if much at all. He is in the moment. I can honestly say that I am more in the moment that I have ever been my entire life. I love it. It is truly a gift.

I spent the other evening with my husband and stepson before they left for their Thanksgiving trips. Throughout the night I found myself thinking, I need to remember this; I need to remember his laugh, his smell, his kiss. Then I realized that I will never forget. I wasn’t thinking of tomorrow when I will miss them. I wasn’t thinking about last week when we fought. I was thinking right then how much I love this moment. How much I cherish that I got to have this moment.

I am a very strong woman. I always will be. I find power in just being a woman.

I feel it is a man’s world, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a woman who thrives in it. I take myself out to dinner by myself to a nice restaurant and order not only wine, but dessert as well. I go to movies by myself. I enjoy being by myself. I don’t feel alone or embarrassed that I am alone. I find power in being happy with who I am. Not many woman I know, can do this.

I know that I am very smart and funny and pretty and well, basically I like myself. I ready, write, knit, scrapbook, take photos. I love to take vacations and see other worlds.

I had forgotten this. I had forgotten to stop and look in the mirror and tell myself, ”I am a good person. I like who I am.”

I can still be the stepmom. I can still be the wife.

 But I will always be me. And that is quite alright with me.