It's been almost twelve years since I came to the United States with stars in my eyes, high hopes for a new life, and the fulfillment of my dreams. I was dreaming that this new life would be a better version of my life where I came from - from single-hood to a married life, from loneliness to much happiness, from having a career to having a much better, higher-paying career, from a good church role to a better church ministry, etc. Little did I know that life would be totally different from what I anticipated.
Twelve years, much has been said and done; and there is much I still wanted to do with my life. I have been a mom and a wife. And I feel like that's all I've been these past twelve years. I've lost myself. I forgot how to dream. I have lost my passion. I feel that my reason to live has been to provide for the needs of my husband and kids; to be there whenever they need me. The only time I have for myself is when everybody has gone to bed. That's when I can be me again, not a wife, not a mom.
What about me? Wait, who is ME? I don't know ME anymore. The worst thing is, I feel that my husband, kids and God Himself are in conspiracy against me. My husband- who is against putting the kids to daycare so I can work; the kids- who, though not a fault of their own, are young and needy; and God- who seems to be opposed to my getting a job, and for giving me a child with Down Syndrome.
Life has been unfair to me. The Creator and the people I love have been unfair to me. Yeah, I get it. Life is not fair.
I have sacrificed more than a decade of my life to stay home and take care of my family. I have denied myself the time and opportunities that I could have been enjoying by now.
But then, is there really something out there that would make me happy? Or is it here within the four corners of my apartment? Would losing every opportunity I think I deserve be the same as losing a husband, or a child? When I'm old and I look back, will I be able to say that all my sacrifice and self-denial was well worth it?
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