10 Years Later

I got married a month after my 22nd birthday.  I had just graduated from college, never had a real job.  My husband was my third serious boyfriend and I met him when I was almost 19.  At the time, I felt like most college grads in their early twenties.  I knew everything.  If someone had told me not to get married so young, to take life's changes slowly, that there would be time enough, I would have pitied them.  They might have had problems and obstacles, but that would not happen to me.  I was too smart, too well prepared. I loved too much.  

If I could see that girl now, in some sci-fi back-to-the-future way, I think I would just shake my head and give her a hug.  There was nothing anyone could have said or done to prepare me for life.  I am a dive in and doggie paddle kind of girl.  Teaching kicked my ass.  Parenting is wonderful, but three children in 4 years does not add to anyone's sanity.  I wanted to have all of my children before I turned 30.  I needed to have a masters degree.  We needed to buy houses and cars.  If you try to tell someone in their twenties that all of those things really don't matter, that life is long and days are beautiful, they can't understand.

I remember my wedding day very clearly.  It was hot, and I was happy, but apprehensive.  I couldn't really eat and the limo driver made us late.  I waited outside the church for what seemed like an interminable time before it was my turn to walk down the isle.  I cried repeatedly, during the ceremony, during my vows, during speeches, during the father-daughter dance.  I was both happy and a little sad that my childhood was officially over.  It seems a little strange that 10 years later I feel like adulthood is really beginning.  10 years of limbo… packed full of emotions and milestones.  

When I look at my Facebook page I see hundreds of happy faces, happy families, perfect relationships, perfect children staring back at me.  I look at my own Facebook page and it looks the same.  I don't write about the truly difficult times because I know people don't really want to hear about them.  But that omission makes my Facebook, my photo album, my memories, in some ways, inauthentic.  It gives the impression that if you do things in a certain way that life will be perfect.  I find myself looking at friends who have been married the same length of time, or with children the same age as mine, and wonder what I am doing wrong that I don't look that happy all the time.  Lately, I look at those people who have moved recently and wonder how it is that they are so happy in a new place where they know no one and have to start all over.  But it is all an illusion.  Those people have their own struggles behind closed doors that don't make it on their Facebook page, just like mine stay hidden behind smiles and posts about fabulous weather.  

The truth is I don't know how I have stayed married 10 years, and I don't know if there is a secret formula for staying married 10 years more.  I love my husband and my children, but that is no recipe for success.  I am still trying to figure out who I am, and I really hope that in 10 years I will have a better idea.  I hope that my husband will continue to love me, even when I change.  I hope that my children will be happy and healthy.  I hope that they won't make the same mistakes I did unless they have to.  

Telephobia...

My mother and sisters are afraid of spiders.  I don’t really mind them if they aren’t crawling on me.  My brother is afraid of people who don’t make maintaining themselves a priority. My husband is afraid of vegetables.  We all have our fears.  The thing that gives me the heebie-jeebies is the phone.  I hate it and I am afraid of it.  There are more people with telephobia out there than you might think. Here are my top 5 reasons why:

5. There is no escape. The cell phone can reach you anywhere.  In the past, when I wanted to avoid someone or a responsibility, I could just stay away from the house and they could call and leave messages, which isn’t the same as saying “no” on the phone.  Most of the time I have to mentally prepare myself to make or receive certain phone calls.  Cell phone calls are kind of like a sneak attack.  I have trouble saying “no”.  Some people can say this word without even thinking about it.  I have found that I can only say it on special occasions and rarely on the phone.

4. Phone stalking.  Everyone has their personal phone stalker.  Sometimes it is that friend that just calls and calls, and other people are married to them.  Sometimes when I am alone I want to be ALONE and the phone makes that impossible.  Rather than take the hint that I have not answered the phone, these lovely individuals just call repeatedly until they get through.

3. I count rings… When I was in high school I worked at a Chinese restaurant called the Lilac Blossom.  The boss was a total tyrant and used fear and humiliation to get us to work harder.  When you were a hostess you were only allowed to let the phone ring three times.  If it rang more than that you KNEW she was going to be right around the corner to tell you how lazy you were, [loudly] “Izbae (she couldn’t pronounce Elizabeth), whya your sista smarrta than you?  What you do up there?  Maybe I call your sista and she do your job? The phone ring 4 times, disturb whole restaurant, you answer right away.”  So at home, when I am running for the phone, I am counting wondering if a short, dictatorial Chinese woman is going to pop out of one of my closets if I don’t answer it in three rings.

2. You can’t read people over the phone.  They say that 80% of communication is visual.  You can see people’s expressions and their eyes to see if they are agreeing with you or just paying you lip service.   I put my foot in my mouth constantly and I count on visual cues to let me know that I need to apologize, retract my statement, or retreat.

1.  I learned it from my mom!  Ok, so we blame a lot of things on our parents, but this one I can definitely claim.  When we were little it was our job to answer the phone.  I don’t think my mom ever did it.  We had to say, “Hello, this is the Rennix residence, how may I help you?”  We would then tell my mother who was calling, since the phone was rarely for us.  I think we eventually saw that my mother would tense up when she was on the phone and use her “mom on the phone” voice.  When I was older I could even tell who she was on the phone with based on how natural her voice was.  I think every mom masters that transition of, “(angry/frustrated) Haven’t I told you… ring ring… never to… ring ring… climb on the furniture.  Go to your room…ring ring… (sweetly) hello?”  I will say that caller ID has made phones much easier to navigate, but I always feel terrible when I screen a call…

So now that everyone I know that reads this blog knows I am neurotic, and that it is my mother’s fault, I am ready to overcome my fear.  On Friday I will officially become a Pampered Chef consultant, and I will have to use the phone every day to call people I don’t know and ask them things.   I am hoping that my anxiety will eventually ebb, and maybe by the time I am ready to re-enter the work force I won’t have to filter my job search by phone use…