I Thought That's What I Was Supposed to Do

How stupid can we humans be? We have one life with no second chances, yet we do stuff blindly, as if we didn't have better information. Maybe we don't. As a female offspring of my mother and grandmother before her, I have always done things as they did. That is, I have made my life's decisions based on the information I had at the time I was making them. That hasn't always been good.

I was reading love stories in one of my Reader's Digest issues last night. One story was about a woman and the first love of her life, separated by circumstance. She wrote that she had married someone else because "I thought that's what I was supposed to do". That line struck me like a lightning bolt. I can't tell you how many life decisions I have made for that very reason!

My mother--my greatest influence--used to tell me that nursing or teaching were "respectable" careers for women "in case something happens to your husband". We weren't of the same generation, obviously. I had other ideas. I wanted to be a translator for the United Nations because I did so well in French. I thought about being a doctor. When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a cowgirl. Then there was the notion of going into music or theater. None of that panned out because...well, because it would all take a lot of effort and a lot of money. Bottom line was that I wanted to be a happy wife and mother, raising an incredible family in a quiet little suburb somewhere. And I never, ever thought of being too far away from my parents. Unthinkable!

When it came time to apply for college admissions, I was interested in a couple of places in Wisconsin, with the thought of being closer to the first love of my young life. My mother told me that it would be too expensive to go out of state, so I applied to (and was accepted by) only one: Illinois State University, where both of my parents were alums. Why? Because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. My major was speech and theater with a minor in English. I loved performing. Unfortunately, some classes turned me off. I wasn't creative enough to be counted with the rest of the students who were far more artsy-craftsy than I was. At the end of my sophomore year, I flipped my major and minor. (I am so very glad I did! English is a four-year requirement in every secondary school in the country, but very few schools actually have a theater department. Job security!) But what does one do with an English major? Teach! In short order, I was in the education track to become a teacher. Why? Because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. Both of my parents were teachers, as was my grandmother. It was respectable.

I had been in love with a young man from Wisconsin since the summer before my 8th grade year. We had carried on an innocent long-distance romance for years. I dated in high school but never had a serious relationship because no one in my whole huge school could measure up to the love I had for Jim. I didn't just love him; I also loved his entire family. We had similar family roots. He was good looking and fun, and his family was just what I needed. We spent Christmas vacations and summer vacations with me up there or with him and his sister in Illinois. But he was in college in Wisconsin and I was in college in Illinois. He had a goal in life, and passions. I was just a blob. I was holding out for Jim. I saw him only a couple of times in our college careers. To me, it just didn't seem to be working out for us to be together, so I succumbed to a marriage proposal from a jerk of a guy who was so controlling, I couldn't possibly have married him. I mean, everyone else was getting engaged and planning their futures. It was what I thought I was supposed to do. My love was many miles away. (We didn't have the Internet in those days. Oh, how I wish we had!) I broke up with Jim via snail mail. I think he was injured. (I didn't have a clue.)

I didn't marry that guy. (My mother helped me out on that. When I went home for the summer, full of regrets, she said, "What do you want to do?" I said I wanted to break up with the fellow, but I was caught up in his controlling behaviors. Her comment, so wise, was "If you know what you want to do, you know what you have to do.") I broke up with him from home, then had to endure a week or two of manipulations when we returned to college again... This was the ONLY time that "I thought that's what I was supposed to do" actually worked for me!

Since I had burned bridges with my Wisconsin love, I moved on. I married a man who had mental problems (unbeknownst to me). We were divorced a few years later. Then I remarried. This time, I had invested a whole lot into the relationship in spite of obvious signs that it wouldn't work. We had been through a lot together, and I thought I was supposed to stand by him. Good Lord, how long does this go on!

I have made so many decisions about my life, my marriages, my daughter and grandchildren, based on inaccurate information, that it scares me...but I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I am of a transitional generation of women.

The people who have left me behind have gone on to what seems like happy lives in paradise. I just hold on to all I know. Here I am, alone, in my little house, surviving as best I know how. It seems like what I am supposed to do!