An interesting feeling is creeping into me as a result of my crappy lame-o useless eggs which I recently learned about (OK, yes, I'm being a bit dramatic with that statement). It's not relief, really. Something else.
For my whole adult life I have been seeking my person. They say that a way to make people gravitate to you is to appear to love life. To smile. Be magnetic, I guess. I'm not good at smiling genuinely when I don't feel up for it, and I have been aware for a very long time that I seem unapproachable. This fact gives me pause when someone actually does talk to me, like they've sort of braved a type of gauntlet somehow to "approach the stern one". I have been told I can be intimidating (both my men and women so I don't mean in a you're so beautiful people don't know how to talk to you but rather you look really unamused and maybe even scary much of the time and people find that intimidating).
Conscious of this, I try to be friendly to the best of my ability, aware however that my smile pops up to say hello! and my face promptly goes slack when the person is out of my line of sight. This is not because I am unhappy. It's because that person doesn't amuse me in the least. No no I'm just kidding. It's because I am who I am.
I love to laugh and have reason to smile. Don't we all?
Point being...I'm not sure what my point is, but I'm just going to keep going. You have nowhere to be, right?
A coworker of mine who while waiting for some technical stuff to be dealt with before we could get to work started chatting with me around the time of Commencement. He is quick to smile, and is friendly in a way that makes me jealous. I'm sure he has his bad days but he's one of those people who can make other people smile just by being around them. It's annoying, really.
I told him about the recent No Filter date and he said something interesting about the comment made about unapproachability. He said "You can be intimidating, but I know that while you have this expression that says 'I am unamused by life' I know there is a smile just under the surface and it's not hard to make it come out. You have a tough exterior but I know you're just a softy under all that".
It was the first time I'd heard someone describe my expression. "Unamused". It's a perfect description because all in all, I am unamused by life for the most part. Life, you need to earn my laughter. I don't just go givin' that shit out willy nilly.
His statement nearly made me emotional. I know that sounds weird, but I don't remember the last time someone who wasn't close to me looked at me. Like, really looked at me, and made an observation which was, in truth, a kind one, not to mention an accurate one. I often feel misunderstood because of my mannerisms, facial expressions, and in general, whatever it is about me that results in me being misunderstood. In reality, my tough exterior is actually thin skin, and all the sensitivity that that entails.
While I really appreciated his observation, it also reminded me that it's been a very long time since someone has wanted to know me, see me, understand me. And I realized how much I want that.
OK, I've digressed from my starting point which was about the feelings resulting from Sunday's test results. If I still can get pregnant on my own, it's still highly unlikely to happen in the next few years, which is when it would need to happen (sorry. this is probably more than you care to read about. but don't worry, I won't stick to this topic). Armed with this information I am disappointed, but also realizing that there is no longer a need to frantically look around for my person as if my life depended on it. Or rather, the life of my kids depended on it. I am entering the adoption/surrogate phase and there's no timeline for that.
At no time in my adult life have I been not actively look for my person. And now, the thought that I only have a limited window, if any at all (it's like a small bathroom window I think, really at this point), I almost feel free of the pressure. Because why panic for a tiny window which could be cracked and not doing it's job well anyway?
It's actually really weird.
If I have a daughter someday I'm going to encourage her to have her eggs frozen when she's 25. Oh...wait...
Ha. Ha. Ha. See what I did there?
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