For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this need to always have something to look forward to. There have been times, when I can’t sleep, that I’ll concoct elaborate, cinematic scenes of the future to lull myself to sleep. In my early adolescence, it was the moment when that boy finally notices me and we kiss! Later in high school it was college when my future would begin. I was going to go to a free-spirited, bohemian college, where I would wear long flowing skirts with thrifted boys’ t-shirts, with my hair in a haphazard pile on the top of my head. And then, of course, my future daydreams took the shape of a wedding. It wasn’t so much about embracing the Wedding Industrial Complex (as the daughter of two wedding photographers, I knew better) as it was about this magical, glowing day, where every last detail was creative and interesting and beautiful and mine.*
And while I know I have certainly not grown out of this looking forward (now it’s babies, naturally), there’s another feeling along with it too. In between daydreams of having an interesting, fulfilling, creative career, and imagining how freaking awesome our kids will be, I have these moments of sheer contentment. I’m finding joy in things like coming home to someone I love, in the home we made for ourselves. We have a home, full of things that reflect who we are, where we’ve been, and who we love. We have a circle of creative, talented friends who are here to support us. We’ve made a life, pieced together with bits and pieces of this and that, like a nest.
And when I do find my thoughts drifting to that dreamy future, I actually feel like maybe I can just go and make it happen. And I think this is the first time in my fledgling adulthood I’ve really felt that way.
So, yeah. It’s pretty damn cool.
*my wedding was actually rather magical, but that’s another story for another day.