I am absolutely, 100% and unapologetically a planner.
I. PLAN. EVERYTHING.
Clearly, the military and I are going to be at odds pretty much always. I have definitely learned the hard way that the army is not his other woman- *I* am the other woman. And I know, I know, I need to learn to relax, go with the flow, re-assess my own life plans/goals/ambitions because I walked into this deal with my eyes open.
But I'm sorry, I'm bitter. Bitter about canceling our wedding, bitter about the 9 flights (so far) that I have had to cancel but am still paying for on my credit card. Bitter enough to get p*ssed and make sure I don't abandon everything I wanted to be because I'm an Army wife. I'm worried about looking at my life in 10 years and wondering where *I* am in it.
I know this is not what I'm supposed to be saying, and truly I think that I do try to smooth out every transition and obstacle that comes up and be the supportive one. I know that everything I am writing/feeling is MilSpouse heresy, and I do have guilt. Believe me.
It's just...I had really, really big dreams. I really, really wanted Yale for a PhD based on my love of history or the history of literature. That's (on average) a 6.7 year commitment, and a whole inconceivable amount of money to invest. I wanted to be a professor at a top-notch school, leading a scholarly-type existence where I got to teach and learn, have in-depth conversations with other faculty, publish incredibly insightful dissertations, push myself every single day.
For better or worse, that dream is out. And it's weird to say that, because this is the first time I've really felt a door close in my life. I know it happens the older you get and the more forks you have in the road, but I definitely felt this door slam.
Well, it's time to pull myself up by my bra straps, as Nana would say. I AM going to have at least two higher degrees, and since it can't happen exactly where I would like, I'll just challenge myself in another way.
This whole morning I sat down and figured this out- in the next three years, I will have (1) certificate program completed, (1) Master's in Education, and (1) Master's in Educational Leadership at a school at the base I'm pretty sure we'll be stationed at. If I only get one master's I can deal with that (for now) and I've told J I really don't want to get into baby-making mode before I get 2 out of 3.
He just kind of half-listens and at the end of it says, "It'll work out."
Damn right it will.
Come hell or high water.