When Dreams Become Reality

 

What do we do when our dreams become a reality? The Jenn from 10 years ago would have been frozen in fear. I would have self-sabotaged and created a way for the dream to stay just out of reach. Part of me wonders if I played a bigger role in not allowing myself to become a college professor 13 years ago when the opportunity first presented itself. I know my boss at the time was not willing to allow my schedule to shift, but could I have done something differently to still realize that dream? Maybe. Could I have stopped the efforts because I was scared and it was easier to let someone else be to blame, rather than me not making shit happen? Maybe. 

When I think about what my life looked like this past week compared to what it's looked like over the past twenty years, I feel like anything is possible if we are in the right headspace to receive whatever God or the universe is sending our way. Two years ago, I was offered a job with a nonprofit I had always wanted to work for. The first day I was supposed to be driving into the office, I had a horrific anxiety attack and gave up on that dream. I was scared. I was anxious. I was still depending on other things and people to fill my cup, rather than filling it on my own. I was a broken person. 

In two weeks and one day, I'll celebrate two years of sobriety. 

This week, I stepped into a university classroom as a professor. 

My world looks so different than it did two and a half years ago. 

At the beginning of 2023, I was broken. I had really hard conversations with my husband, thinking he was to blame for the sadness and failures in my life. I was ready to file for divorce. I needed (wanted) someone else to be responsible for where I had fallen short and broken promises to myself time and time again. I blamed him. I was drinking a lot to numb all of the feelings. I was not a present mom; I always loved my kids, but there were times when I simply just wasn't there for them like I am now, because I was unable to feel things that hurt too much. I had stayed in a job way too long because I liked the people I worked with but hated the work itself. It had no meaning, no depth. 

In February of 2023, my husband's parents both passed away unexpectedly, and within 11 days of each other's passing. I saw my husband as an entirely new person. He was vulnerable with me. He let me in. He trusted me to be there for him, even though I didn't trust myself. I gradually started to think that maybe there was more to life than what I had let it become. Maybe there was hope for our marriage, for our family to stay intact. Maybe I could be happy and not broken. 

Later that spring, I decided to have gastric bypass, and that really broke my world open. I saw reasons to stop drinking. I identified changes in myself, positive steps towards a healthier me. I honestly think part of the reason I had the surgery was so I could have a couple weeks off work, away from the tyrant of a boss that had taken over the company I had been working for the last six years. I saw a window, a cracked door, an escape. So I took it, and I slowly started making changes in all areas of my life.

My kids used to be scared of my reactions. I couldn't see it then, but I can see it now because they are no longer afraid of how I'll react. They trust me. They trust my love for them. They know I'm here for them, but that I also have my own goals I'm working towards. I'm not the mom they have to walk on eggshells around because I may crumble or crack at any moment. I'm someone solid they can lean on, anytime, for any reason. 

September 2023 - I stopped drinking for good. 

December 2023 - My husband and I have a solid marriage, supporting each other, and trying to let the hurts of the past stay where they belong - in the past. We start to rebuild. 

January 2024 - I start working for a company that values its people and growth. 

December 2024 - I start working directly under a supervisor who also values professional and personal growth, and shows that in the way he shows up for his direct reports. It changes my perspective on the work I'm doing in my corporate job. 

February 2025 - I reapply to teach college courses. 

June 2025 - My twins graduate high school. New chapters begin. 

July 2025 - I receive an email that there is an opportunity for me to teach a college course that fall. 

August 26, 2025 - I teach my first college course. I didn't die. No one threw eggs at me. 

August 28, 2025 - I actually get to teach. As a college professor. With a syllabus, and Power Point, and discussion groups happening. It's really here. 

August 29, 2025 - I apply to teach more college courses. I appreciate the everyday corporate job that pays the bills and I show up for that job just as much as my professor gig. It all matters. But keeping the door open to transition into teaching college courses full-time is the dream I'm chasing now. 

Two years. 

Completely different life. 

Grateful is an understatement. 

The First To Leave the Nest

 My Rylee Brooke has always been determined when she sets her mind to something. When she was a toddler, she often ran the show when it came to what the twins were doing. She had the big ideas, and she made sure Lucas followed the rules she set. As they grew up, they tended to stick to similar paths - the Health Academy in high school, soccer and volleyball and basketball as extracurriculars and a group of friends that intertwined for most of their high school experience. When we started talking about their plans after high school, I was unsure about whether they would end up in the same place, and curious about how it would all play out. 

In the end, Rylee decided college was her next step (to become a teacher) and Lucas is pursuing a different path as an EMT, paramedic and firefighter. That meant they would be living separately for the first time in almost 19 years. And it also meant at least one of them would no longer be living under my roof. We all know this day is coming as parents, but let me tell you, it hits a lot harder than you anticipate, even if you know it's coming for months and months ahead of time.

Rylee moved into her off-campus apartment this past Wednesday with three of her closest friends from our neighborhood. They went through elementary, middle, and high school together, and when a couple of them were considering the same college, they started looking into housing. I was a proponent of dorm life, knowing that they'd have rules and be under the watch (somewhat) of the university. And I was 100% in support of Rylee living at school if that's what she wanted to do, because I wish I had pursued that opportunity when I was in college. So I'm proud and happy for her, but also so sad to not see her car in front of the house when I pull up after dropping Micah and Jaxon off at school. It's a whole mixed bag of emotions, and at the end of the day, I am so incredibly proud of the person she is, and who she is becoming as she stretches her wings a bit. She's only a county away, so we'll see each other often, but it's not the same as knowing she's coming home every night (even if it's way past my bedtime when she walks in the door) or giving her a hug every day. 

Every single stage of parenting has surprised me. The infant stage is exhausting. The toddler stage is exhausting and frustrating because these little humans you created (or raised) are becoming their own people but they still can't do basic things to take care of themselves (although Rylee did take care of herself in more ways than one when she was 4 and 5 years old...namely random haircuts and folding laundry and writing to-do lists before she even knew how to spell). Then there's the elementary years and the stinky middle school years. To be honest, high school might have been my favorite, followed closely by the infant stage. Something about those book-end periods of parenting really grabbed my soul. I loved my babies as babies, and I really like them as teenagers/young adults. It's such an incredible blessing to watch them become people, and to love them not only as a parent, but just because they're amazing humans. 

I held it together the whole day on Wednesday, unpacking, hanging things up, and organizing with my girl. When it was time to say goodbye, I did my best to hold the emotions in, because I don't want to take away from any of her happiness in this new journey. But the tears started to fall and didn't stop for about 48 hours off and on. I just walk by her old room and feel her absence. I look out the front door and her car isn't in the usual spot, and I miss her. I even miss doing her laundry and picking up her room. She's just such a wonderful person, I'd honestly want to hang out with her even if she wasn't my kid. I can't wait to watch her soar and cheer her on as closely as she'll let me stand on the sidelines. If you're reading this, Ry, I am so blessed to be your mom. Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey, and know that you will always have a place to come home to, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to vent to, and someone to read your college essays if you want an extra set of eyes. I love you more than you will ever know, and I am always just a phone call, text, or FaceTime away. Keep chasing your dreams and making shit happen, kid. You'll always be my favorite girl.