The Life I Thought I’d Have

I’m not mad. I’m not angry. I’m not cursing. But I do feel slighted and cheated.

It isn’t that anyone did something “wrong.” It’s that, because of my own patience and hope, there’s so much I never got that I felt I deserved. I’ve never been proposed to. A man has never knelt down and asked me to be his wife. I’ve never had a wedding, even though I’ve been married twice. I’ve waited patiently for rings — sometimes even buying my own — even though they were the ones who wanted the marriage, who wanted me to have kids. I never forced a man to be with me or to want children with me. Those were their choices, not mine. And yet I was not honoured and revered in the way I should have been.

I accepted crumbs when I should have had a feast.

I never got to go to Lamaze class, or Mommy-and-Me yoga, or partner yoga with my spouse. I never had my partner be up all night and take the baby for a late-night walk when I was exhausted. Instead of shared partnership, it always felt like me in the throes, begging for scraps. I longed for softness, but what I got was harshness when I said I was tired or overwhelmed.

No one ever spoke to me gently when I brought up my concerns. No one ever simply saw my worth. And it made me question my worth. Am I worth nothing? Do I deserve more?

Now I’m 37 with three children. It feels like I’ve lived two different lives. I’m about to be in my forties soon and I wonder what this new chapter will hold. If I don’t get the things I’ve longed for, I’ll survive; I know life is unpredictable. But there’s still a quiet ache that longs to have them, even at 40. I hope I live a long, long life, looking young and feeling strong, so I can still experience that kind of love.

I want a man to get on his knees, to tell me that he loves me, that I’ve made him a better man, that he can’t live without me — and mean it. Not to get married just to say we’re married, but because he knows we’re aligned, that I’m his rib and his better half.

I guess, whatever life has for me, I’ll accept it. But I want the universe to know there’s still an ache inside me. It hurts, because I know there are women who have given less and received so much more.