On snowy winter days, I feel a pang of sadness that I don’t have a child and a husband. Those moments when you take the sleds and ride until your cheeks are frozen, play snowball fights, write in the snow, or decorate snowy cars with hearts… moments when the three of you are completely in sync… I long for a family, but not just any family. I want someone to be silly with, to laugh with, and to share the joy of raising a child. And I want someone for whom I’ll strive to be my best… to be a support, a steady presence… I envy families so much. I wish I had thought about this sooner, instead of only wanting to stand on my own.
It’s okay — once I stop listening to my heart, everything will fall into place, and there will be a family, and children will come…
The biggest mistake is listening to a wounded heart, one whose idea of love was always that it must be earned… And that an absent man in my life is normal. I just need to wait. It’s just that my traumas happened to line up ridiculously with my love.
Now I live by the principle:
A man’s love is proven through actions and trust. A woman’s love is proven by preserving love and an atmosphere of lightness.