As a child, I envisioned a life as a jockey, captivated by the grace and power of horses. Like many young girls, I was enchanted by these majestic creatures—pouring over books, sketching them, and writing whimsical tales. My favorite story was “Black Beauty,” and I watched “The Black Stallion” repeatedly, dreaming of adventures with a beautiful racehorse. I even fabricated tales about owning a horse to impress my fourth-grade pen pal (sorry, “Katie from Colorado,” but I was not entirely truthful).
The closest I came to riding a horse was during a trip to Disneyland in third grade, where I experienced the thrill of pony rides. However, my dreams were soon tempered by reality; my allergies to horses made it clear that I needed to reconsider my aspirations.
Instead of pursuing that dream, I turned towards what my mother recognized as my talent: writing. I spent countless nights in my room crafting stories filled with quirky characters, often featuring the word “fart” and plots of daring horse escapes. My passion for writing flourished through essays, diaries, and a collection of beloved books, including my treasured copies of Anne of Green Gables. I eagerly signed up for every writing course available in college and even secured an internship at a newspaper, imagining a future where I would work amidst the towering skyscrapers of a vibrant city.
Yet, life has a way of diverting us from our paths. Just before graduation, I bought a one-way ticket to Seattle, determined to find my place in the world. I had even received a rejection letter from Starbucks CEO, Howard Schultz, after requesting an interview to join his PR team. “He’ll regret this,” I told myself confidently. But then, everything changed when I met a charming man named Jake from Kentucky, who was headed to New Jersey for a job. Faced with the choice of following him or pursuing my dream, I stayed back, believing long-distance would be impossible. Instead, I found a small newspaper job and eventually married Jake, settling into a cozy farmhouse in the heart of Kentucky.
Now, two decades later, with four children and a profound loss behind me, I often reflect on that dream. I recently stumbled upon that old plane ticket while sorting through keepsakes and it triggered a wave of nostalgia. If I had boarded that flight, perhaps I would have found a fulfilling job and built a life in Seattle, complete with weekend walks to Pike Place Market and learning to ski. However, that alternate reality would mean missing out on the love story with Jake—the man who has been my partner through thick and thin, even when I accidentally lost the car on Valentine’s Day in ’99.
The laughter we’ve shared, like the time I was hilariously kicked out of Drake’s bar after a night of dancing gone awry, or the joy of raising four spirited kids who fill our home with love and chaos, make me grateful for the life I’ve lived. I wouldn’t trade the experiences of riding tractors, learning to anchor a boat, or discovering my knack for shooting at targets.
While I ponder the “what ifs,” I’ve accepted that dreams can sometimes slip away. My priorities have shifted; my focus now is on nurturing my children into kind individuals. I tell them stories and support their dreams, even if they seem far-fetched. My son aspires to be a football player, and although I know the odds, I encourage him to pursue his goals. After all, he might just be the one to buy me that dream penthouse in New York, where I could write about a little girl and her horse.
For those interested in exploring their fertility journeys, there are resources available like the comprehensive insights provided at NICHD, and if you’re looking for guidance on home insemination, consider checking out Make A Mom. These links can help you navigate your path, just as I did in my own journey.
Summary
Reflecting on my childhood dreams of becoming a jockey, I embraced writing as my true passion after realizing my allergies would hinder my equestrian aspirations. Life took unexpected turns, leading me to a fulfilling family life rather than a career in a bustling city. Though I ponder the what-ifs, I find joy in raising my children and supporting their dreams, while cherishing the love and laughter that fill my days.