I just realized something. I was doing dishes when this thought flew through my head. And it was so striking that I had to hurry downstairs and write about it.
My parents are never going to rescue me.
And that one simple statement is what I think will be what finally makes me grow up and take responsibility for my own life. Over and over I have shared what I am going through in my marriage with my parents (albeit, it is a condensed and edited version), and so often I have gotten the blank look, or the change of subject. And I didn't realize until just now that I have been waiting for them to rescue me. For them to come and take me out of my situation. For them to make everything better. I didn't realize that I have grown up. I am 30 years old. If I don't like where I'm at, if I don't like my life, if I don't want to continue on in the same direction that I've been heading in for the past 9 years, well, I am the one who is going to have to make the changes. No one, not my parents, not some knight on a white horse in shining armor, not some life-altering event, no one and nothing but me. Wait, me and my God. But I can't just use the excuse that I am waiting for Him to give me a clear answer as to what He would want me to do. He is in me. A part of me. And He goes with me. I can't walk away from Him. He'll never leave me or forsake me. So if I make changes that He doesn't like, He'll certainly let me know. And He'll probably let me suffer my consequences, but He will not desert me. So I don't need to fear that I am doing something against Him. And I don't feel like the changes I need to make are ones that He is opposed to. If I did feel that way, I would not consider them.
I've never broken up with a boy. Never, in my entire life. I've dated guys, but I always took the coward's way out. I sent my friend to break up with my first boyfriend. I treated one so badly that he broke up with me. I called one and told him on the phone. But never once have I looked someone in the face and told them that I did not want to be with them. And this life change is going to take a whole lot of guts that I'm not sure I have.
And that last paragraph scared me so bad that I have sat here for the last 5 minutes, re-reading it. And thinking I shouldn't put it out there. Because what if I can't do it. What if I am too scared and I have to change my mind. And what if....what if....what if....I detest the sniveling me that lives inside. And I know that it will only take one moment of me being honest and telling the hard truth...only one moment, and that sniveling me will be gone. I only have to give the brave me a chance....I'm in there somewhere. Buried, stifled, forgotten. But I am in there. And if I can shut the sniveling me up long enough, the me that I could admire would appear.