I was looking through an old journal a few weeks ago and came across this:
The previous August started this journey when the never-ending period began and finally ended when was put on birth control—something I have chosen to stay on ever since.
Reading these words, I am taken back to the darkness I felt during that time. I remember going to church every Sunday, and my eyes welling up with tears as I prayed for peace about what my body will seemingly never be able to do.
The sorrow of this time is something that's difficult to forget. Not because I still feel it the same way, but because it changed me.
At work, I see how the effects of ill-equipped parents are long-lasting on children. I see how sometimes, parents with the best intentions have a hard time controlling their kids. But I also see how, for some kids, my acknowledgment of them brings a smile to their face. How sometimes, I’m trusted with the secret knowledge of who their secret crush. How sometimes, they just need someone to hear them out without judgy pants on. Or how sometimes, they need to hear their parents’ words from another adult who wants to see them succeed in life.
My heart melts when the little ones in my life grab on to my legs and squeal with glee as I tickle them.
But, I’m good with not having kids of my own. Everyone has a different path they tread and while mine may seem desolate to some, I am at peace with my fate. And because of that peace, I feel so much stronger and grateful for the perspective I've gained.