Being independent is a theme throughout my life. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be independent one way or another. I’ve often chosen to form my circumstances so that I was independent. But not always. At the moment I’m the most dependent that I have ever been. So what happened? And am I content in the current situation?
As a small child, I longed for independence. I guess most children do. As a toddler, I wanted my own little bag with my own bus ticket. My mother, wisely, gave me a used one, but I felt on top of the world.
Growing up, I had many restrictions and few options to be on my own. The situation turned around when I went to live with my father after the divorce. As a teenager, I had all the freedom I could have wanted and with it, loads of independence.
I remember planning a day trip to cycle to a nearby park on my own. I brought a bottle of lemonade and everything. It turned out to be a major disappointment. There’s not that much fun and adventure cycling fifteen minutes away on your own with nothing to do on your destination. Ah well, lessons learned at age thirteen.
Living On My Own
At age nineteen, I moved out. There was no need, I was happy enough living with my father and brother, but I felt the unstoppable need to live on my own. I wanted to make my own decisions. Those first years were horribly lonely and overall quite terrible, but I never regretted my decision. I was on my own.
Looking back, I never connected my studies at the university as a means of becoming more self-reliant. I never connected it to a career which could make me more independent. Studies were a chore that had to be done. I never finished my studies.
Until my husband and I bought a house eight years ago, I was independent. Since then, we’ve sold the house. I quit my day job four years ago, and I’m relying on my husband’s income since that time.
I hate it. It bothers me a lot.
The problem is that he makes just enough money for us to live comfortably. We’re not rich, it’s nothing fancy, we don’t go on any holidays, but we have everything we want and need. There is no need for me to bring in money. And so I don’t.
It’s a catch 22 really. We don’t need the money, so I don’t work as hard as I could to make any. I feel bad for not working as hard as possible, which makes my work deteriorate in quality. Which makes me feel worse…etc…etc
I hope this situation isn’t going to last forever. I know it won’t. However, I do know I have the power, the force in me to take care of myself. It’s just at rest right now.
One day it will be called upon, and I know I’ll be able to do it. Until that day, I write a little, I play my video games and in all honesty, wait for disaster to strike.