I want something.
I’ve wanted in the past, but all the things I’ve ever wanted were flourishes. I wanted good grades, good hair, a perm. I wanted to find the right pair of jeans. I even wanted to jump into crow from downdog. I wanted these things with a low flame desire. They would be lovely, but by no means necessary to my livelihood.
Thankfully, I have never wanted for anything essential. Love from family, emotional and financial support, and neurotic levels of healthcare were all delivered, without question. I’ve received them like they were my birthright.
But now, for what feels like the first time, for real this time, I WANT something. I want with a fire in my belly, I want with clawing fingernails. I want my relationship to be great. I want it to get better. And I want it to last a long time. I admit it–I want, I want, I want!
I have a boyfriend who’s wonderful and generous and sexy. He’s grounded and practical and accepting of my full self, quirks and thrills and all. Like many women before me, I’m trying to advance my career, find professional and financial success all while being loved, and loving my partner. I want to be me regardless of my singlehood or partnership. I want to know that I am enough. And yet I can’t deny that the process of living this relationship has changed me. It continues to change me. It reminds me of all the things I’ve known and continue to know, and the things I’ve forgotten. My relationship exposes my blank ignorance of so many things.
Not marriage, nor shared real estate, nor children insures a happy and enduring partnership. I know it’s true, but I want it anyway. I want all of it. I want us to be fabulous, and get deeper, and be more of ourselves. I actually want, and I’m not afraid to admit it!