A confession.
The monotony of my daily life often weighs heavily on me. Why am I not accomplishing more, experiencing more, or connecting with more people? I frequently feel confined within the routine of these tethered days, burdened by my role as a parent to my beloved children. They demand my time, attention, and energy, leaving me with little to spare.
Oh, how I yearn for freedom. I remember vividly the day I walked home from the hospital just four days after my C-section, pushing through at a painstaking pace of 10 minutes per block. Yet I made it out into the world. A week later, I wheeled my brand-new stroller over a mile to the bustling Walnut Street, drawn to the vibrant chaos of life that I once adored.
Now, however, venturing out with my three young kids feels like an uphill battle—a chore rather than a joy. The effort involved in dressing them appropriately for the weather, locating six mismatched shoes scattered throughout the house, packing snacks, and reminding everyone to use the bathroom can be daunting. I often find myself questioning, is it really worth it? My answer used to be a resounding yes, but now a small voice whispers, “Let’s just stay in.” It’s easier.
I used to thrive in bustling cities, commuting daily to Times Square, returning to my tiny shared Manhattan apartment where the view was merely another building. I could step out anytime for a cupcake or a night out, surrounded by the vibrancy of life. Now, I am anchored, my feet planted firmly on the ground, chasing after my children and tending to their needs.
Occasionally, I gaze up at an airplane flying overhead and reminisce about my former career as a budding aviation attorney. I recall spontaneity in my life—like the time I flew to New Hampshire just for a lunch date with my college boyfriend, who was a pilot.