I’ve always been someone who cherishes her personal space. Having lived with family members exclusively, my experience with roommates has never lasted longer than a year. This isn’t something I take pride in, but it’s a part of who I am, and I’ve come to terms with it. I identify as an introvert.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t always accommodate my desire for solitude. Growing up has been a series of compromises, particularly when it comes to sharing spaces.
During my college years, I quickly learned that shared dorm bathrooms were a challenge. I made it my mission to find the few restrooms on campus that had locks, because facing the prospect of waking up at 3:00 AM to use the bathroom was too daunting.
When I married, I discovered that I had to share a bathroom again—and this time I was also responsible for cleaning it! That was definitely not in the marriage vows!
As if sharing a bathroom with a guy wasn’t enough, I had to share a bed too. Not in the romantic sense, mind you, but in the snoring, blanket-hogging, and cover-stealing sense. More than once, I’ve contemplated grabbing scissors to cut the blankets in half. Of course, my husband would likely end up tossing his half off the bed anyway.
Then came the kids. My hopes for personal time vanished as I now share a bathroom with three boys. It’s a rare occurrence that I can use the restroom without an audience. Even my husband follows me in for a chat, knowing it’s the only place where I sit still for more than a few seconds.
I adore my boys, but sometimes their love can feel overwhelming. It’s all too easy to lose sight of who I was before becoming a mother and wife.
Last week, I reached my breaking point. My in-laws had been staying with us for two weeks, and the house was tense. After putting the kids to bed one night, I found myself stuck under my son’s arms and legs, sweating and uncomfortable, but not wanting to face the social situation awaiting me downstairs. I felt trapped and needed a break.
With a surge of determination, I freed myself from my son’s grip, got dressed, kissed my husband goodbye, and bolted from the house as if it were on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and guilt for abandoning my family responsibilities, but the thought of freedom was too enticing.
I drove aimlessly, pumping up the volume on my favorite songs and belting out lyrics, completely off-key. I didn’t care; no one was there to judge me. Eventually, I decided to treat myself to a movie alone—something I had never done before. Sitting in the theater, soaking in the ambiance, I felt my body relax for the first time in weeks. It was exhilarating, and I found myself craving more moments like this.
I had become so accustomed to prioritizing everyone else’s needs that I forgot how liberating it could be to indulge myself. Now that I’ve tasted this slice of freedom, there’s no turning back.
Thoughts on Embracing Independence
Thoughts swirled in my mind about the little pleasures I wanted to allow myself:
- I want to wake up one morning to mimosas, even if it’s not a holiday. I’m an adult; I can enjoy a drink at 7:00 AM if I choose to.
- I want to take the scenic route while driving, just to listen to my favorite song for the fourteenth time. This time, I’ll get every note right!
- I want to dress up for no particular reason and throw a dance party in my living room—none of that shy side-to-side shuffling; I’m talking full-on diva moves like in Flashdance.
- I want to treat myself to something frivolous, even if it’s just a new shade of nail polish or a sparkly lip gloss. Lingerie only counts if it’s something I would feel awkward about my dad folding.
- I want to leave the house in disarray and go to bed early, hoping that cleaning fairies might work their magic overnight.
- I want to stay out late and dine on nothing but dessert and drinks. After all, what’s the fun of adulthood if I can’t occasionally savor cake and ice cream for dinner?
Ultimately, I want to reclaim moments for just me—alone—and that’s perfectly fine.
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Summary
This blog post reflects on the challenges of maintaining individuality while navigating the responsibilities of family life. The author recounts personal experiences of feeling overwhelmed and the importance of taking time for oneself. Through humorous anecdotes and heartfelt reflections, it emphasizes the significance of self-care and the joy of indulging in personal desires, urging readers to embrace their own moments of solitude.