Future

I’ve been seeing people choose one word to motivate and represent them in 2020. It’s a nice thought, after all. They have one mantra to work towards throughout the entire year, and it’s vague enough that even changing of plans and broken resolutions can still lead to building on this word. Is this the new resolution? Maybe.

Given the task of actually choosing a word for myself, however, left me feeling nauseous. Am I really that out of touch with myself that I can’t choose one word I would like to build on for a meager 365 days?

I spent the entire day thinking of words. I’ve injured myself twice this week, (and it’s Monday) so “safety” sounded pretty on the nose. My husband and I are on separate journeys to fitness, so “health” may be a good choice. I’ve struggled desperately with my mental health last year, should “joy” be my word? I have finished all of about three things I set my attention to last year, maybe “finish” should bring me through the year.

In the end, none of them really resonated with me. Then I realized, most of my issues are because of the way I treat myself.

I’ve spent years and years jumping from this place to that, never knowing when my life would be uprooted again, always bunkered down for that inevitable time I would be alone for however long. I’ve neglected my healthcare, my mental health, my purpose in life, my beauty routine, my sleep, myself. I’ve neglected every part of myself to be the rock for my family during our time in the military- to be able to smile and tell my kids and husband that everything and everyone was okay even when we were on the brink of disaster. I had to, then. I don’t now.

My husband now works a 9-5 job. It might not be exactly Monday through Friday once training is over, but he is home for dinner every night. We will have permanent placement in a matter of months, and we will be buying a home and settling down for the first time in our marriage. As long as he doesn’t royally screw up in some way, he should have a pretty comfortable job in the same location for the next thirty-odd years. I never imagined this life for us. I can breathe. I can settle. I don’t have to be in survival mode nonstop.

Tears are flowing while typing this. Just the realization of the absolute weight off my shoulders is astounding. I honestly don’t even know who I am anymore, and I feel like no one has noticed me fading.

Well, that’s not entirely true. My son has noticed. In the months since we transitioned out of the military, he has seen me struggle to leave survival mode. He helps out more around the house and reminds me that I need rest, too. He is such a beautiful soul. I would give him the moon if I could.

Regardless, I noticed that all my faults and failures could grandly be traced back to this one issue. Even struggling to add time to my ten thousand hours goal was due to a lack of self-interest.

With this realization, I was able to choose my word for 2020: “Future”. I’m not having to scramble to keep up with the ever-changing demands of being a military spouse- which I wasn’t good at, anyway. This means I am able to plant my feet on the ground and spread roots. I can find my purpose. I can take time for myself. I can find what makes me happy and do that thing- whatever it is! I can get involved, make friends, be a “regular” somewhere!

The pottery place called me a “regular” last week and I nearly cried. I’m a “regular!” I can get one of those punch cards from somewhere and actually fill it up! I can have a “usual” order at restaurants!

I can look to the future, instead of surviving the present. I can devote time and self-interest into my own future. This future. Here. With these people. In this town. My own future.