My great big list began with a fight with my sister. We don't fight often, but when we do, it's memorable. She had just announced she was going to Italy as a birthday gift from her husband. I was stung by the hornet of envy. As she detailed the high points of her tour, I fell into a pool of self-pity. Yes, the shallow end. She is going on a whirlwind tour; Naples, Rome, Florence, Venice. Venice? In the fall? But that's when my birthday is.
You see, I had a grandiose scheme of going to Venice to complete the annual marathon for my birthday.
"Why not?" asked my sister, not fazed at all by my pouting. "It's not like you don't know how to travel," she added. I responded with excuses. "I couldn't possibly go," I said. "I haven't trained enough, I have no cash -- heck, I don't even have an up-to-date passport."
That's when she blew up. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" It took me by surprise. "It's not like you can't find a way to save up the cash for a short trip to Venice, to do something amazing that you'll remember forever." I mumbled something like the airfare would kill our budget and I'd feel guilty if I was the only one going anyway. Totally exasperated, she said: "Guilty? For what? It's not like you're a lazy bum." She pointed out that as working-at-home mom, "you're frickin' crazy if you don't take a vacation by yourself." It's called me-time, and I haven't had any in such a long time that I hardly remember who "me" is.
I guess I never felt that I was worth a trip to Venice, not this year. Not ever. That's when I realized that if I sat down and wrote a list of all the things I do -- sort of a list of job responsibilities -- maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to convince the tough critic in me and show others that I am indeed worth it. Oh sure, I could add a column for the times when I indulged or took a trip all by myself, but that was back in 2003. It is time for a good look at where I am today.
• I am a wife. Relationships are hardly work-free. Time for "us" has to be carefully crafted and fiercely guarded.
• I am a mommy. Responsibility for the care and feeding of my family is mine. From groceries to cooking to cleaning the kitchen -- it's all me. As a bonus, I make lunches, bake bran muffins for long trips, and host the annual Thanksgiving dinner for the family.
• I am a maid. I feel the need to be the best or I will hear about it. Dusting, cleaning, laundry, sheet changing, vacuuming, scrubbing -- it all must get done. And killing spiders is an occupational hazard.
• I am a fashionista. Maintaining my clothes, buying new shoes, getting a bag together for Goodwill, passing along hand-me-downs. The ins and outs of family fashion fall at my stylishly clad feet.
• I am a freelance writer and fact checker. I need to maintain a presence in a competitive market. I must write constantly. I don't get any vacations from marketing myself.
• I am a Jane-of-all-trades. I pay bills, chauffeur, change light bulbs, tend wounds, garden, take care of the dog, keep track of expenses, schedule doctor's appointments, solve math problems, solve boyfriend problems, volunteer to teach children to read, and attend Church functions and writers' meetings.
Somewhere in all of this, I'm also supposed to take care of myself. So in my free time, I run, bike, or lift weights. I must keep up with my health, hair, and nail appointments. It's one thing to be unhappy, but it's a tragedy to be both unhappy and unhealthy.
Even as I compile this list, I still feel pretty inadequate because I think of all the women who do these things and much, much more. Maybe your list is longer than mine. But it's not really about how much you do, but about how much value you put into it. I never thought much about what I do -- it just seemed like duties that a woman of my station in life had to do. I must be realistic about who I am. I am not a doctor who can save lives, but I can put a band-aid on a boo-boo and kiss away tears. I am not a teacher, but I can help a 6-year-old sound out the word "understanding." I am not a chef, but I get compliments on my soups, and no one at my table has died from food poisoning. These are things that only I can do for my family -- no substitutes are acceptable.
Right now, make up your list include everything you do. Nothing is insignificant -- it all matters. Just like a trip to Venice in the fall matters to me.
Update from the pub.: I asked Bernadette if she thought she deserved to go to Venice, and she replied: "I am signing off the Internet now -- amidst 3 projects -- and am going to get my passport picture. I have to do it. Even if I can't make a trip to Venice happen, I will have all the tools to keep my dream alive. I am worth it. I just need to believe it."
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Bernadette Sukley |
| About the author: |
| Bernadette Sukley has written, edited, fact checked for nearly 20 years. Her topics range from health to sports and lifestyle, from human interest to hard news. Her work has appeared in Men’s Health, Sports Illustrated for Women, and ABROAD magazines. Currently polishing up 3 novels for publication, she welcomes discussions on women and literature.
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