16

Much of this weekend I found myself thinking of how my little baby boy, who I last saw when he was four days old, will be 16 years old next weekend. It just blows my mind. I was so independent when I was 16, off traveling around the country, coming home and getting a job, buying my first car and just ready for life.

And I spent some time feeling sad about missing all of these years with him. Sure, the cycle came back a few times about how much better off he is (yada yada yada), but I realized that some of my sadness was also because I miss the person I was when I had him. The sense of adventure and hope, the sense of rightness - that all was as it was supposed to be. As much as I love my daughter and my life is stable (yada yada yada), I just don't feel connected to her, nor do I feel connected to my husband or the place I live.

I spent much of today feeling angry, out of place, like I am some kind of pretender who is tired of pretending but unsure what to do about it. For the time being, I am done feeling angry and am glad I didn't voice anything since one can never truly take back words that are spoken aloud. I do want to think through in the coming days and weeks on the thoughts of who I really am, where I am now, and where I want to be. And if I figure out that I want to be who and where I am now, that's fine, but I want it to be by my conscious choice, rather than the sum of other choices.

Most of all, I just can't believe my son is going to be 16.