They Misled Me When They Said I Could Have It All

self insemination kit

I recently came across a thought that suggested we do most of our living in the first 20 years of life, and the remainder is just an effort to make sense of it all. Honestly, I’m torn between thinking this is the most disheartening idea I’ve ever encountered and feeling a sense of relief, but deep down, I believe it’s a load of nonsense. Regardless, it made me pause and reflect. I recognize that there’s a significant shift in one’s 30s, where life transitions from being a series of plans and aspirations to simply focusing on the present moment.

And perhaps, it hasn’t unfolded as I envisioned. Admitting that feels strange, doesn’t it? I genuinely think that what is happening — and what has happened — is meant to be, but that doesn’t mean it aligns with the dreams I had when I was just a child. I fondly recall the day my mom handed me a copy of the Constitution, and I eagerly read it while sitting on the toilet, thrilled to discover it didn’t mention anything about a girl like me being barred from the presidency. I rushed to share this revelation with her, completely forgetting to pull my pants up!

But those days feel so distant now, and many of my own choices — like marrying young and starting a family, or having all the children that my heart desired — have created a reality that doesn’t quite fit the dreams my mother’s well-loved copies of Ms. magazine instilled in me. The relentless passage of time has subtly snatched away those dreams, and I can see now that I won’t be a professional dancer, a surgeon, or even a homebirth midwife.

It’s not just career aspirations, either; I can’t even manage to keep a garden alive, and animals seem to have a distinct aversion to me. I’ve wanted to master cooking Mexican food for years, yet my culinary skills remain limited to melting cheese and yelling “ole!” It’s almost comical.

Yet, I’ve checked off the major milestones of adulthood. I graduated high school and college, became a mother, committed to my marriage, and bought a house. I enjoy a fulfilling career and have a passion that brings me immense joy. The pursuit of obtaining these things is mostly behind me, and I’m (mostly) ready to embrace the rewards of having them.

You’d think this stage would be a breeze, but it turns out it’s not. Who knew that the time in life where we settle into our choices and stop fretting over the next big leap would be the toughest?

All that looking ahead was challenging, but it was a beautifully intense struggle filled with hope and anticipation. Now, it feels like the future has become an inward journey, and amidst the joy and chaos of living, the yearning for more still lingers.

So yes, I’m saying it: I had dreams that were grander than this, dreams that extend beyond the daily grind of laundry and the reality of having a tired body and a face that’s starting to show its age. There’s a voice inside me that remembers the thrill of running through the house, waving that faux parchment like a flag of freedom. In some ways, I traded those dreams away in a deal so favorable that I’d do it all over again in an instant.

I’m not complaining; I truly appreciate what I have. I’m simply voicing the frustration with the myth that we can have it all. It’s neither fair nor true — we can’t possess everything, not in the way we often imagine. What we can attain is a collection of wonderful, awe-inspiring experiences. If you’re fortunate, like I have been, you may even have a mother-in-law who embodies grace and helps care for your children while you pursue a career that feels rewarding. However, a part of me is never fully present at work, as my mind often drifts back to home, and when I’m at home with my phone nearby, I’m not entirely engaged in the moment.

We tend to divide ourselves — into halves, thirds, or even smaller pieces — sprinkling our energy across various facets of life like fairy dust, hoping it’s enough to keep everyone satisfied, including ourselves.

And you know what? I believe it is enough. I really do. It’s okay to mourn the loss of some of those past dreams. Life with young children is a tough balancing act. We choose what we can manage while trying to accept the things we can’t control, navigating the tightrope of responsibilities and desires. The truth is, it’s challenging and often lacks glamour.

As much as I admire trailblazers like Gloria Steinem, I’m just a weary mother of four, often wondering what my life would be like in a white lab coat, taking my kids to the doctor.

But here’s the most important point: We’re far from finished. In a bittersweet yet exhilarating twist, these little ones won’t stay little forever. They will grow and change, as will we, and life is full of surprises. None of us should ever stop dreaming, not even for a second. Sorry to the person who said we only truly live for 20 years; I have so much more living to do.

My aspirations may have shifted; you couldn’t pay me to run for president, regardless of gender. Now, my dreams center around personal growth, like achieving that elusive arm balance in yoga. Just yesterday, my goal was simply to get out of bed; later this weekend, I aim to enjoy a whole movie night with my husband without interruptions.

Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe I’ll finally learn about tamales or even change the world, depending on how much coffee I manage to drink. Perhaps the essence of our dreams isn’t as critical as the fact that we have them to lean on when the mundane aspects of life feel overwhelming. None of us can predict where our tightropes will lead, but I’m genuinely excited to discover the journey ahead, even if I sometimes forget to pull my pants up!

In summary, the notion of having it all is a myth. We find value in the choices we make and the dreams we continue to hold. Even when life feels chaotic, our aspirations help guide us. We have to embrace our path, keep dreaming, and enjoy the ride.