Dear Readers,

So, I have been having to have some big adult conversations (at the ripe ol age of 33) and it’s been a lot to process. To the point where I haven’t really been able to fully process it, so here we are.

I have been reading some old entries…like really old…as in from 2010. And yes this is relevant to the conversations of the now, so be patient, I am getting there. There have been a couple of things that have struck me about them
- I was really super sarcastic, but often quite whingy. Soz.
- I really was still super fucked up about Gallus. I used to write about being over him, when I clearly wasn’t. The strange part is I know that I definitely am now, because even reading it, I remember the feeling, but I don’t feel it any more. That and he has contacted me a couple of times and I have been totally fine and genuinely wished him well.
- The sex stuff really did weigh on me like a giant albatross. Thank all that is holy that is all over with.
But the part that blows my mind is how certain I was that I wanted children, and how miserable I was that I felt like that had been taken away from me.

Whereas now, I know that more than likely I can have them, but I don’t actually know if I want them. When did that happen? Was it just because I had to talk myself out of it because I didn’t think I could, and the disappointment was so great that I essentially just convinced myself it wasn’t something I wanted anyway?

I actively hated Gallus because I blamed him for not being able to have children. I cannot even tell you how surreal it is to read those words on the page, when I know the conversation I had with the bf the other night about kids almost gave me a panic attack. I know that was how I felt- I wrote about it, and more than once- but I don’t connect with that, not even a little bit. 2010 me may as well have been a clone or something.

Of course the issue is that the bf does want them. As in 110% for sure deal breaker territory. And we have talked about all of the things that I would insist upon e.g both working part time, shared parenting responsibilities, as well as my very real concerns about my mental health going to shit- post partum psychosis is not to be trifled with friends, and it scares the crap out of me.

But he still wants them. And he has given me a bit of a timeline. I have three years to get it together and somehow find this need, this desperation I had previously to experience this concept. If I am being honest I have less, as I would need to allow him to find someone else.

Fuck being an adult is hard. I am legitimately terrified about either choice at this point. I just wish I could go back to 2010 and meet him then, and then none of this would even be an issue.

-Me

heart - break