SOMEONE ELSE’S LIFE

So, I have been debating about how to say this without sounding like a whiny-assed bitch (WAB). I can’t really come up with anything, so I will just have to go with the WAB model.
One common cause of frustration and ongoing theme in my life has been the idea that I am “living someone else’s life.”
That may sound strange, but it isn’t. When I first got married (at 18, for crying out loud) my husband was in the Air Force. I was what you might call a conservative version of a “flower child” and was for integration, against the Vietnam War (sorry, conflict), and loved living in Palo Alto, CA. So, where did I travel next? To a small travel trailer on a dirt road outside Selma, Alabama. Not so I could protest, but because it was near the Air Force Base. It would have caused problems for Earl if I protested or seemed any different than all the other military wives. So, I didn’t do those things. I accommodated, and complied, and tried to fit in.
We all know that when you have children you are living their lives. When you sleep, eat, go to the bathroom, everything, depends on their schedule. You want to be a good mom (and don’t want to make yourself crazy) so you comply and accommodate.
Housing moves and plans were made around my husband’s job (and job changes). It was, the most important thing in our lives. We tried to make choice that would be good (or not too bad) for the kids.
The friends we maintained and when we saw them, was dependent on my husband and kids. I no longer got together with my friends, it always had to be a couple’s thing. Couples whose husband Earl didn’t like got dropped. People without children fell away. Places that were not child friendly became distant memories. OMG, babysitters were impossible to find and cost more than the “date night” you were trying to arrange.
When I went back to work it wasn’t a lot better. I needed to work, but it had to fit in around my husband’s job and my kids needs. That is fine. I loved my husband and kids, but, for whatever reason, I kept thinking that it might get better. I started volunteering to do things I loved; working for PBS, designing props for the local theater company, taking Italian classes. Those things were great except that there were just not enough hours in the day to include them in all the “accommodating” without driving myself insane. Eventually, those activities also fell away.
My job got more involved, paid better, took more time and energy. That’s good, right? Yes, for the money and prestige. But, was it what I really wanted to be doing?
The kiddos grew up, but I was still thinking about their lives more than my own. Probably to their detriment (and mine). I thought they needed my help and I wanted to help them.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not blaming my husband or my kids. They were living their lives and getting what they needed. I am glad for that. I just felt like I was along for the ride.
There were definite advantages for me. I was not alone, I had a family that I loved, I had a good income, I had interesting work and work friends. I kept waiting for “something” to change. I have finally figured out that the “something” that needed to change was ME. Really, it was me all along.
Even though the children are grown, even some of the grandchildren are grown; and I have a second husband, and I am not working, I still quickly fall into that poor me mindset.
I make plans around other people’s schedules (and then feel resentful when plans change). WHY do I do that? Is it just such an ingrained habit that I can’t see it? Is it just part of being a woman in our culture? Am I full of crap and should be grateful for the great life that I have?
Tell me the truth, do the rest of you feel this way? Is there a way to just set your own course while still loving and living with other people? How do I change my attitude to love and accommodate myself?