Break The Mold

Growing up in rural America, we are conditioned from birth to pair off, marry and have as many babies as physically possible.  As an adult—a single female with no children— I’m continuously judged —harshly.  Why do people judge negatively on those who have a different path? 

Most of my classmates went the direction taught to us from birth—following the mold.  They also judged all of us that went against that grain.  The memory of walking into a local diner as a former classmate and childhood friend approached me—one baby on her hip, two clinging by hand to her shirt and one driving his truck through the air, while running circles around her.  She immediately stated my name and asked if my parents were giving me a break from my children.  When informed I had no children, she looked at me as if I’d just stated I was a felon.  She immediately changed her face and quipped, “OH, I heard you went to the big city and became a high fahlootin city woman.”  As if the idea of that meant wasting your life away.  

Please do not get me wrong.  I do not dislike children.  If one chooses to have children, that is wonderful for them.  If one chooses to not have children, that should be another accepted choice.  

As for me, my ability to have children was taken from me at a very early age.  The trials and tribulations of a body badly beaten while pregnant takes a toll which can not be reversed.  No one ever asked me the why about not having children.  They immediately judged and made assumptions.  

Now here I was, standing face to face with a judgmental classmate thinking I was worse than a felon because I hadn’t managed to procreate.  How does one defend that?  You don’t.  

When my trip home ended, I flew back to NYC to go back to my “high fahlootin city life”.  

Years passed.  

One day, my office phone rang.  It was my hometown friend.  My parents had shared contact information.  The wonders of a small town.  “How are you?” She boasted in a cheerful tone.  The next words out of her mouth blew my mind.  “So, my husband left me.  Said he never wanted to marry me, just did so because I was knocked up.  Now I have to get a job.  Figured I’d start in a new place.  Would you hire me?”  

Please allow me to digress.  As the only childless spinster in my small town class, I had been  berated—looked down upon—mocked—shunned—and at times made fun of because I “couldn’t get a man” and “didn’t have any children”.  

Fast forward, there I sat with the leader of the condescending pack asking for a job.  The desperation coming through in her voice.  

As I sat looking out the window.  Two responses entered my mind.  The first, “well now why would you be calling a childless spinster?  I thought my type was beneath you.”  As that response rattled around in my brain, my heart kicked in.  Pity ran through me.  My grandmother’s voice sparking in my ear.  “Just because someone hurts you, doesn’t mean hurting them back is justified.  Take the higher road.  Be the good person even if no one knows.”  Which is when the second response entered my head.  “What type of work would you like to do?  Although I don’t have any openings, I’ll see if I can make some calls.”  I chose to go with the latter response. 

Sometimes our grandmothers are a force of reason to be reckoned with.  

What was the end result?  I found a great job for her.  She relocated to a city about 7 hours from our hometown.  Once established, she started spreading false rumors about me.  Sometimes in life, taking the high road drives us right over a cliff.  

What I’ve noticed throughout life are those in the happiest of situations remain quiet.  Those in miserable circumstances feel the need to profess how happy they are—be it in person—or on social media.  

People want you to believe their marriages, relationships and lives are beyond perfect.  Go on social media and you’ll experience the happy bliss.  Speak to them offline—they are clawing like a cat on a hot tin roof to keep their sanity within misery.

As I’ve stated in prior posts —“Are you ok with your life from now until death?” 

If the answer is “no”—do what is necessary to make that happen.

Why is it so important for people to give a fake facade?

The world has enough people who know how to paint a pretty life impression.  Who play games while thinking only of themselves.  

It needs people who are honest, dependable and who tell it like it is.  Whether it benefits them or not.  People who can express their feelings—even if leaving themselves vulnerable.  They can take the risk in the hope of a huge reward.  

Living all over this country, I’ve learned how different people are.  Some states have an overall feel.  California was mellow.  Oklahoma a genuine salt of the earth, what you see is what you get.  Some cities do as well.  Chicago and New York are in your face with an agenda.  Boston they like to play games.  

The past couple of years have been particularity hard for me.  My heart and my body were broken.  My brain had to reset and remind me of the values where I started— rural America.

Please allow me to digress:  

My father had me pounding steel posts when I was 12.  It taught me to work hard for something you want.  That is a satisfying thing.  

Throughout childhood, I was at the barn by 5am most days.  It wasn’t work to clean the stalls, or exercise horses.  More of an escape.  It kept me focused—out of trouble.  Hauling hay and building fence were a necessity.  There were days my body ached so bad it wouldn’t move another inch.  My hands bled.  Water stinging like fire.  Bandages were used to cushion the next day’s work.  Blisters whether on your hands, heels or feet were never a reason for a day off.  

There were few sunrises and sunsets I missed from the alleyway of the barn.  Never a complaint left my mouth.  It calmed my heart to be there.  The smell of the shavings—the sound of the heartbeats.  The barn was my escape—my church. 

The grit I learned as a child afforded me the ability to figure out my focus in the hardest of times.  When my world was at its darkest.  When my body wanted to give up—my heart was shattered—and my soul broken down.  It is at these times we are the most isolated.  It is at these times we have to dig deep—find our roots—use them to regrow.

I’ve learned the physical body heals easily compared to the ache of the heart and mind.  

My heart loves deeply.  It knows no other way.  When my heart realized the love I felt wasn’t returned—it bled out until open space made it hollow. That hollow aching worse than any pain I’ve ever experienced.  

Back to my original point—“Are you ok with your life from now until death?” 

No matter how big we blow up the bubble of denial—the truth doesn’t waiver.  

Know your truth—Figure out how to communicate it even if it terrifies you that it will leave you vulnerable.  

Covid lockdown has definitely pushed the limits of everyone.  Some grew stronger.  Others fell apart.  Some found grit.  Others succumbed to weakness.  

What we should have learned through it all is to always pour our heart and soul into our passion.  Be stubborn about our goals.  Be eager to learn from others.  Speak kindness to a stranger.

Be soft with your hands and words, yet strong in your morals. 

Do something you have always wanted to do but terrified of.

Break the mold. 

Be elated with your life from now until death. Take the risk. Make the change.  The reward is worth it. 

Stay healthy!