The powerful undercurrent that both ruined and saved my life
It’s 1985. I’m 10. I plan out my perfect life.
“I’ll get married when I’m 22 and have a baby when I’m 25. That’s perfect! My grandpa was born in the year 1900, so it makes perfect sense for me to have my first baby in the year 2000.
But one baby isn’t enough. The perfect number of kids to have is two. One girl and one boy. Done!”
With my life’s plan written (in a private part of my brain), I could go play basketball.
Notice how I neglected to add to my plan: fall in love or be happy.
It was so simple. How could my plan possibly fail?
By the age of 24, I hadn’t gotten married yet. I’d dated man after man, not even stopping to take a breath. But the deadline for my secret life plan was quickly approaching, and all I’d managed to do was drink and party and sleep around. A lot.
I was getting desperate.
Then I found him.
Suitable marriage material.
But he was moving across the country in three weeks. Damn. My future husband and father of my children was slipping away.
What could I do but drop everything and follow him?
