Being True

Sometimes the hardest person to be is yourself.

I have changed my hair, my address, and my name to gain the love of others. I have deferred my own dreams so others may pursue their own. All my life, I have wanted to be four things; a wife, a writer, a mother and a teacher. I have compromised and sold out my soul to make each one come true. A mirror reflecting what others want to see, what they want to believe.

Now, my mirror days are over.  I need to reflect my own vision, no matter what the consequences to my GPA or to my heart.

 

It's my life after all.

Is this not the feminist dream?

My husband is far from perfect. He is a anal retentive, Type A, left  brain thinking man, who doesn't believe in Valentine's Day. It's simply not his  holiday. He thinks that it is a economic- based conspiracy by the florists, the  greeting card people, the candy people and of course, the diamond people.

This is part of what he claims is his refusal to be romantic when retailers tell him to be romantic. What he is doing right now to me is the romantic thing  of all.

I am going to graduate school full time and working as graduate  assistant and substitute teacher. He is supporting my dreams by taking care of  the rest of our lives together from the child care to the housework while  teaching science full time at the local school.

Tonight I came to flowers. Why? No other reason than I love you and I know  how hard you are working.

They used to say that behind a every great man was a woman, who took care  of all the day to day details so their men could do great things.

I can say that behind this woman is a great husband who believes in her  dream as much as she does. He was the first person to believe in me as a  writer and a poet, and he helps sustain me when the writing isn't going  well.

Virginia Woolf said a woman must have a fixed income and a room of her  own to have the freedom to create. He is giving me all of that.

Now I have to create.

I'm going all in

My editor from the regional magazine has asked me to write another article for the Spring Issue. I have to find out first if they are still holding their garden show in Salem County since it is not listed on their site.

I have decided to submit my creative thesis as a poet rather than a novelist with the emphasis on the relationships between fathers and daughters. It requires emotional risk, but I feel it's worth it. By this time next year, I will need to have written 35 poems of publishable quality for Symposium.