By Silvia Pera
I have been frightened at the thought of being dependent for only a few years now. I sometimes have nightmares where I suddenly become an awful beat poet and my parents support me for years until I finally find my muse. My fear of being dependent on others however is much more deeply ingrained in me than a simple nightmare could ever hope to be.
It comes as a backlash to my childhood dream of becoming a diplomat with a Colin Firth or Woody Allen like husband. Since I was very young, I always dreamed of being able to travel and have beautiful and incredibly intelligent children named Mark and Silvia Jr. (as a sign of antiestablishmentarianism). I would be able to juggle world changing work, a loving, but slightly carefree husband, and demanding, but generally perfect children.
Recently, I have come to realize that although this lifestyle is possible for some people, my lack of patience would probably prevent it from being fulfilled. In my now devastated dream world, my husband fights about doing the dishes, the children become David Sedaris rebels, and my work takes up any social life I may have thought I ever had. I do not actually have one right now, but I used to think that I would be able to have fancy cocktail parties and wear fantastically dashing clothes to movie premieres.
In my devastated dream world, the first thing to end would be the love for my eventual husband. He would become just another person in a home I hated. And then what would I do?
I would think about divorcing.
But if ending a month long relationship feels like I am cutting off part of my heart, what will ending a marriage feel like? I am scared that I will be unable to find the courage to end my dependency on another person’s feeling, to think more about myself, than about others and to focus more on my emotional stability than on an entire family’s perceived emotional state.
There is no simple answer and in fact this is all very hypothetical. I might just find a perfect husband who will do the dishes and I might never have children and in fact, chances are I will never become a diplomat.
Picture from O5 Recipes for Life