Many, many moons ago, before I met my husband, I moved to a city in another state based on a phone discussion with one friend I had who had moved there for law school. My lease in my university town was ending, I was graduated, and moving back home with the parents was not an option. The job market at that time was useless, so no job was calling me in a specific direction now that I had graduated.
What was I going to do? And where was I going to do it?
So, after a fortuitous discussion with a friend who had graduated the year before me and had moved away to go to law school, I decided to visit her and check out Baltimore, MD. By the end of that weekend, I had signed a lease on a tiny efficiency apartment (despite the fact I had no job, and I still don’t know how I pulled that off) and then proceeded to walk the Inner Harbor area, store to store, until I found myself at least enough employment to pay the rent. Turns out, by the time I went back to my University apartment to pack up and move, I had two jobs lined up and ready for me to start as soon as I could get there.
And thus started my life in Baltimore. Moving the car at 3am when the street parking changed, dodging rats the size of mid-range dogs in the alleyway, walking a mile and a half through the heart of Baltimore to my jobs daily, sitting on the fire escape and watching the building fire on the next block, and all.
A lot has happened since then. I actually did get work in my field of study, and did pretty well at it, too. I met and married my husband. I’ve had two kids and left the paid workforce to be a mom, and then a homeschooling mom. (Never saw that coming!)
All of a sudden, I’m 45 years old, and can’t remember the last time I did something fun and adventurous by myself and for myself. I have no regrets about our life. That doesn’t mean I’m not quite intrigued and excited about a new venture.
I am going to be taking my first trip all by myself. Can you imagine? The freedom of that? I might dedicate a whole day to hearing my own thoughts.
I sat down with hubby, the homebody who jets all over the world for work, and proposed this idea. I didn’t think he’d react negatively, but there’s the voice in the back of my head… He’s going to feel slighted, like I’m wanting away from him. … Will other people think I have some deep-seated dissatisfaction with my husband or life? … Will the girls take my leaving personally? … Is any of that true? … No, I’m just really ready to be in my own head and following my own lead for a few days.
But as I talk with Scott, he’s giving me a lopsided grin. In actuality, the things I want to do on my solo trip, are not things he would choose to do. The list of things I’d go see, wandering around the town with my camera, taking pictures and blogging. He does those things with me because he loves me, and we tend to have fun together regardless of what we are choosing to do. But the option of sending me, and him staying home with the girls – a complete reversal of our roles – he’s in. He thinks it’s a great idea. We start talking budget.
So now, as I write this, I’ve begun the search for where I’m going to go, and how I’m going to do this. In some ways I’m fairly prepared for this. (If I can get the girls and I to Shanghai by myself, and myself to Athens to meet Scott, I think I’ll be good here.) But in some ways this is all new territory – possibly a whole week on my own!
It’s a world of options out there.