Seems like just yesterday when I felt I won the race of life. At the least a steel rod coach that will take me wide and far. Why I jumped off is history. It is too involved with so many different turns and twirls that I still can't put my finger on it. What remains the hardest to grasp is why these decisions, seemingly so independent and so centrally me, has to affect so many.
I guess I didn't know the impact of a marriage. I was so naive at age 25 to think marriage would be a life of living together with your best friend. No, I did not anticipate it would be hard; he was my best friend, and no, I didn't know the newly acquired roles as a daughter in law, sister in law, let alone wife would become such a force in every decision I'd make thereafter. I was 25, and not a single friend of mine was married back then. I was 25.
I guess I had wished to spend my 25-30 years to build myself... to find what I like; to find my path; and get a start in really developing who I am, and while at it, make mistakes if needed. Why? Because this is the time to explore, when I can try different things to find the right one. The important thing is to start. Get an engine going, so that when I'm 30, I have a quasi-accumulation of "experience" that will help me in a path that I would call a career.
At 26, I became pregnant, and thereafter I became a stay at home mom. While I gained the biggest bundle of joy ever to be created, the equation was not the same anymore. With Liam onboard, there was no margin for fuckups or a detour. If I was going to move my family across the sea to take a dab at ME again, there better damn be no error. But the thought never occurred to me, because I got into my dream school. What could ever stop me now?
I guess the biggest disconnect between what I had anticipated and what I faced was the dynamic of the three of us. It is as if I picked him up by his collar and then placed him in Cambridge, MA of all places, and expected him to continue his solid career that he had built for himself in Korea. Nope, that didn't happen, because hello- reality check. I had thought I could manage a schedule that would still allow me to tuck Liam in at night even if his days were mostly spent at daycare. Nope, that was impossible, because while I had anticipated the notoriously rigorous curriculum at the GSD, I couldn't fathom exactly how terrifying the actual schedule would be. Goes without saying, but sleepless in Cambridge is actually very real and obligatory. And at the time I decided to quit, I felt it was a combination of my dwindling will power and lack of architecture love that I felt this wasn't my jam. In retrospect, I realize that on top of all the aforementioned reasons, I was also under tremendous guilt as wife and mother.
Sometimes I found my husband crying inconsolably for hours. I'd ask him why, I'd ask him to vent, I'd ask him not to bottle it up inside, so that I, as his wife, can take away some of his pain. But he wouldn't say a word, and when he finally gathered himself, I' m not mad at you baby...so don't worry. I had never seen a man cry his eyes out like that. It broke my heart to see my strong protector of a husband break down, knowing that no words can really soothe him at that moment. I'd watch him cry shocked at first, but guilt-ridden and useless for the most part. I shut down his world literally- professional life gone, social life nonexistent, hobbies/interests... in Cambridge? No. And eventually, he lost the drive to find something for himself. Some days, I would look at him and feel so very sorry, but I'd quickly shut down these thought because I had more imminent things to worry about like my project that was due in the next few hours. He had lost that light in his eyes-- you know the one that anyone with a purpose has. And he would listen to me complain and bitch about God knows what, and still comfort and cheer me on. And the sad thing is I expected this from him when I fully knew he hadn't talked to a single person all day, ate by himself, and sat in the library. How tragically self centered was I? But the most unfortunate thing was the moment when he became okay with nothing. Neither one of us saw it coming, but it just happened. Complacent about his future, and becoming okay with being unstimulated. And from observing him daily, it was scary to see complacency take its toll on my husband. I could only imagine what was going on in his head. He wouldn't ever speak or complain about his days. He just kept to himself.
I still vividly remember the day I was taking Liam to the airport. He was only 15 months old and he was never separated from his mother. It was only two weeks into the semester when we decided that in order for me to get through school, Liam needs to be in the care of two fully available guardians. Chained in the studio from morning till dawn, I wouldn't come up until 3, 4 in the morning to kiss his chubby cheeks good night, as I'd weep into my pillows totally overwhelmed by guilt. He was only a baby; he didn't even walk yet, and my circumstances required his father to function as a single, stay at home dad, something we did not anticipate at all. In the backseat of the taxi, I held Liam and both of us dozed off-- me from lack of sleep from the night before, and Liam from the comfort of motion. When I opened my eyes, I was at Boston Logan airport. Liam was still asleep and at the airport cafe, we waited until boarding time. I had wished he would wake up soon so that I could see his smile one last time and tell him that we will be reunited again soon. I was the center of his life and he was mine. But he did not wake up even seconds before he left. Tears flooded from my eyes, as I knew he would wake up later on and realize I'm not there. I was there from birth to every day of his life, he would truly know that I was missing. But he couldn't say anything. He wasn't talking then. After sending them off, I could not get myself out of the restroom stall, questioning why I did anything that I did. Hardest moment of my life was accepting that I had to let go of Liam. I couldn't, but I tried to ignore it.
I had meticulously planned for graduate school since years before, before Liam was even conceived. In terms of school, everything went according to plan. Everything happened as I had wished. And I was finally here living in that moment that I had only dreamt about. But the reality was so different, all a consequence of trying to do me when it was no longer just me. Granted I had a later start than I had wished, I eloped to begin my future, the one of the 25 year old when you attempt and change as you wish, because you just don't fully know yourself, your eclectic tastes, your work style, preference, etc. When it is okay to take an alternate route, to detour, to make mistakes. I had begun this, though, with a family. And though I had no intention of changing my path when I entered grad school, this is what I failed to recognize, that I'm no longer just me.
