I am five years old, my practically white blond hair shining in the sun as I swing upside down on the limb of our tree. I wait impatiently for my father to come home so we can begin raking and playing in the leaves together. I'm a daughter and a sister and a kindergarten student, eager to understand, ask questions, and stand out to my parents and my teacher. I am sweet and shy, watching the world around me as I subconsciously decide who I want to be.
I am ten years old. My teeth are all jacked up, coming in on top of each other. My stubborn, unpredictable hair is darkening and waves go through it as I unsuccessfully try to train and tame it. I fill my afternoons and weekends playing with friends, practicing drama, conflict, and resolution. I'm figuring out my talents and interests, measuring each decision with the weight of the crowd's approval. I'm a daughter and sister and fifth grader, advanced in all classes, bored and un-stimulated easily. I am silly and awkward and labeled a nerd. The backlash tempts me to purposefully under-perform, but I can't resist the rush of competition and the feeling of success.
I am fifteen. Waves are giving way to spiral curls, leaving me clueless as to how to manage my mop. Dreams for my future are beginning to form in my open mind and heart. Eager to be an adult, I swallow the small sense of sadness and hesitation that comes from letting go of my childhood. Fitting nowhere and everywhere, I navigate a diverse social scene. I am a daughter, sister, student, and BFF. I am involved at my church voluntarily for the first time in life. I am hopeful, eager, and open.
I am twenty. They call me a butterfly and I resent them implying I was once ugly and unnoticeable. I hide my body in baggy, wild clothes to deflect attention, not yet realizing my figure is attractive. I am soaking up college like napkin over a spill, loving the luxury of learning and enjoying a fresh slate in my social life. Where I once held no opinion, I now know where I stand and I stand there passionately. I'm a daughter, sister, college student, roommate, girlfriend, and employee. I have removed myself from the church.
I am twenty-five. I believe that I know who I am. I've achieved 2 college degrees and have been married for one year. I don't know what I want to do for a living, but I'm working hard in the meanwhile. I want a baby desperately and am eager to begin that chapter of my life. I am enjoying being an adult, making my own way, and the future seems full of possibility and specific dreams. I'm a daughter, sister, employee, and wife. I have found my way back to church and feel comfortable there.
I am thirty. My marriage is falling apart and with it my entire sense of identity and dreams for the future. I have 2 babies, and I cannot imagine how I will care for both of them WELL all by myself and hold on to my job and my home. I've literally just started a new job for a tiny start-up business, not knowing if they'll be there to employee me a year from now. I am convinced I am no longer attractive. I feel like a failure. I am afraid. I am lonely and overwhelmed. I'm a daughter, a sister, employee, mother, and soon-to-be-ex-wife. I feel out of place at church, even with my peers, and while I still believe, I have an awful lot of questions.
I am thirty-five. I feel comfortable in my own skin, as if it finally fits snugly - neither constricting me nor hanging loosely. I am pulling off this single mother business and it has required a complete facelift of my routine, strategies of living, support network, budget, outlook on romance, and many, many other things. Everything, really. My employer is successful, growing, and providing a great place for me to spread my wings and feel successful at work, even as I doubt myself in most other areas. I am doing things I've never done before - traveling, joining organizations, and feeling free and independent. I am a mother, daughter, friend, employee, and sister. I am craving something deeper at church.
I am forty. I am now more accustomed to being alone than being with someone. My best friend has recently received a grave cancer diagnosis. I rage against the thought of ever facing life without her in it. My life is a treadmill, constantly running, but feeling as if I go nowhere at times. Still, I look at who my children are becoming and I know that what I am doing matters and makes a huge difference, if to no one else but them. My career has progressed nicely to more challenge and more responsibility, although it also brings more stress. I'm a mother, daughter, friend, employee, and sister. I have found a church I adore, that pushes me to explore the truth of scripture and apply it to my life. I want to be around other believers as iron sharpens iron. I long for relief.
