I’m having a bit of a personal crisis at the moment. I feel like I’ve lost my way and I cannot work out where it is I belong. I feel like I’m forever somewhere in the middle, never coming first, never being the best at something, never being the most important. Straddling the middle no matter how hard I try.
I’m not a mumsy-mum, that’s no secret. My whole life doesn’t revolve around my daughter, I make a very purposeful point of still having my own life where and when times allows. I will never go out in flats and be home by 11pm when I get a night off. I won’t surround myself with friends I have just because we have kids the same age. I think gentle parenting is a load of bullshit and I don’t cook organic every night.
But even still, I am still a mum. So I don’t completely fit in around my friends. I can’t do 5pm wine that goes all night on a Wednesday. I have priorities above myself most of the time. I wince when you moan about kids on the train/in the office/in a pub, because sometimes that has to be me.
I am half way in each side, being pulled by each like a piece of rope. I don’t want either to win but I don’t want either to lose. I’m exhausted.
I’m too old for uni nights in fancy dress. One was 90s theme. I remember the 90s. But I’m too young to be considered a ‘proper’ mature student.
I have many good friends. I’ll be the third call in a lot of people’s moments of need. But I’m never the best friend, and I never feel like I can be the one to pick up the phone.
I always write completely honestly, in spite of the problems that has caused in the past. Blogs like this are supposed to be built on just that. Yet I see people’s careers flying based on exaggerations, adaptations, and down-right lies.
I’m working my arse for my degree yet am constantly hearing how easy I have it. Just because I’m doing it older. I get comments on the time I get off for uni breaks, by people forgetting while they were doing the same seven years ago I was working three jobs.
I’m considered too old to do a lot of things but am still constantly patronised for being young.
I’m not the top of anything. I never have been. Never the prettiest. Never the skinniest. Never the captain of the sports team, the funniest, the best dancer, the best actor, the best singer. Never the one offered a promotion. Never the one offered the easy road. My whole school life I was somewhere around the middle of every class, not the best, not the worst. The best get constant praise, the worst get constant help up. Turns out adult life isn’t much different. Still stuck in the middle, forgotten.
I’m shouting this into the abyss, on a blog that nobody reads unless I didn’t write the post. I’m writing this while considering deleting the whole thing altogether, because I don’t fit anywhere.
I think I need to go and watch Crossroads, drink a bucket of red wine, and cry-sing to Beyoncé.