HITTING THE MIDLIFE CRISISI haven't been sleeping lately. I find that I am wide awake all night with music in my head. Last night, I finally just got up, ambled down the stairs and grabbed my guitar. I don't remember being that impassioned about playing the guitar since... well, since 1978. It's so strange. There was a time when I slept, ate, thought and breathed guitar. I'd play all day and then late into the night. When I got married and immediately had my two boys who were born the same year, I had made a decision to put it down. In retrospect, I gave up a lot of the things I loved to do when I became a mother. I know it's really not necessary but I did. I think I was in way over my head. I was simply overwhelmed.
Adjusting to life as a wife and mother in Provo, Utah can be likened to being a frog slowly being boiled to death. They don't know they're being boiled to death. They simply get used to the rising temperature and before they know it, they're dead. While that analogy is, in fact, a myth because frogs will jump and try to escape when the water gets too warm for their comfort, this myth nevertheless, described my predicament. I had no idea that I was slowly being strangled until one day, I tried to breath and couldn't.
I was not born into great wealth in the Philippines but certainly, I was born into a long line of the intelligentsia or the intellectual elite. I come from a long generation of artists and math geniuses, gifted musicians and writers. Circumstances that are germane to how most people of my class live in the Philippines are so different from that of Utah. I grew up with maids who picked up after me. We had a laundry woman who came to our house nearly everyday to wash and iron our clothes. We had a driver who reported early in the morning to drive or pick us up to or from our various destinations. If I felt like a cheese omelette, I simply told the maid and within a reasonable amount of time, she'd have it ready on a plate for me. So I had all the time in the world to study, read, develop my talents or skills and simply use my imagination and create without having to worry about whether my room needs dusting or putting things back where they belong. I still can't get into my system that the work I do around here---the things that our servants used to do---are now my job to do. It's demoralizing even if intellectually I know it's not true, but emotionally, I can't catch up. What I deemed to be insignificant, menial work is fodder for competition here. Let's see who can keep house better, decorate better, cook better and iron better. It's so.....banal. And living in Utah, I lost my sense of direction.
In Provo, there is an unspoken expectation regarding how women are supposed to act. I was only too happy to fit in. All wives were expected to stay home and raise their children. They dress a certain way. (Read: drab and sedate.) They can peaches and pears. They sew and show off their quilts. They tole paint. They own a hot glue gun. They don't wear excessive make-up. They have play groups. They can't be sensual. They can't talk to male friends let alone have one. In other words, a woman's worth is directly connected or reduced to superficial aspects. Imagine this: having your worth directly related to how fast or how slow your baby gets potty trained. It's insane. And I was caught up in it. And I coped by getting fat.
These past few days, I noticed a change in me. I think it's because I'm anticipating being alone now---no children to care for. I know no other life than to take care of my children and husband and I find myself back pedaling to try and find me. Me--- the one underneath all the laundry, the dishsoap, the scrubbing, the cooking, the sewing, the crap of running a household full-time. I need to find that person. I have begun a mid-life crisis.
I feel differently lately. I seem to be looking for those things that used to give me pleasure. My guitar, a good book, good friends and suddenly, taking good care of myself. I don't feel guilty about staying away from people who don't see me nor appreciate me. And I only want to be with people who are like me. I feel no need to please others though of course, I don't want to alienate people either. I discovered that I can be pleasant because I don't have to prove anything. Competition bores me. I used to want so many things and didn't have the means to obtain them. Now I have all the resources to get whatever I want, and I don't want anything. I only want to have the best of anything. Mediocrity is annoying. And most of all, I just want to be regular. Metamucil regular.
And so, I am sitting here with my guitar by my side fully motivated to tickle its strings again.
Now if I can only decide between an M-benz or a Beamer. Make that red.
Adjusting to life as a wife and mother in Provo, Utah can be likened to being a frog slowly being boiled to death. They don't know they're being boiled to death. They simply get used to the rising temperature and before they know it, they're dead. While that analogy is, in fact, a myth because frogs will jump and try to escape when the water gets too warm for their comfort, this myth nevertheless, described my predicament. I had no idea that I was slowly being strangled until one day, I tried to breath and couldn't.
I was not born into great wealth in the Philippines but certainly, I was born into a long line of the intelligentsia or the intellectual elite. I come from a long generation of artists and math geniuses, gifted musicians and writers. Circumstances that are germane to how most people of my class live in the Philippines are so different from that of Utah. I grew up with maids who picked up after me. We had a laundry woman who came to our house nearly everyday to wash and iron our clothes. We had a driver who reported early in the morning to drive or pick us up to or from our various destinations. If I felt like a cheese omelette, I simply told the maid and within a reasonable amount of time, she'd have it ready on a plate for me. So I had all the time in the world to study, read, develop my talents or skills and simply use my imagination and create without having to worry about whether my room needs dusting or putting things back where they belong. I still can't get into my system that the work I do around here---the things that our servants used to do---are now my job to do. It's demoralizing even if intellectually I know it's not true, but emotionally, I can't catch up. What I deemed to be insignificant, menial work is fodder for competition here. Let's see who can keep house better, decorate better, cook better and iron better. It's so.....banal. And living in Utah, I lost my sense of direction.
In Provo, there is an unspoken expectation regarding how women are supposed to act. I was only too happy to fit in. All wives were expected to stay home and raise their children. They dress a certain way. (Read: drab and sedate.) They can peaches and pears. They sew and show off their quilts. They tole paint. They own a hot glue gun. They don't wear excessive make-up. They have play groups. They can't be sensual. They can't talk to male friends let alone have one. In other words, a woman's worth is directly connected or reduced to superficial aspects. Imagine this: having your worth directly related to how fast or how slow your baby gets potty trained. It's insane. And I was caught up in it. And I coped by getting fat.
These past few days, I noticed a change in me. I think it's because I'm anticipating being alone now---no children to care for. I know no other life than to take care of my children and husband and I find myself back pedaling to try and find me. Me--- the one underneath all the laundry, the dishsoap, the scrubbing, the cooking, the sewing, the crap of running a household full-time. I need to find that person. I have begun a mid-life crisis.
I feel differently lately. I seem to be looking for those things that used to give me pleasure. My guitar, a good book, good friends and suddenly, taking good care of myself. I don't feel guilty about staying away from people who don't see me nor appreciate me. And I only want to be with people who are like me. I feel no need to please others though of course, I don't want to alienate people either. I discovered that I can be pleasant because I don't have to prove anything. Competition bores me. I used to want so many things and didn't have the means to obtain them. Now I have all the resources to get whatever I want, and I don't want anything. I only want to have the best of anything. Mediocrity is annoying. And most of all, I just want to be regular. Metamucil regular.
And so, I am sitting here with my guitar by my side fully motivated to tickle its strings again.
Now if I can only decide between an M-benz or a Beamer. Make that red.
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