Suffocating in Suburbia

"Remember: no matter where you go, there you are."

It is all I ever wanted. 

For the first 20 years of my life I was tossed from pillar to post.  New house, new schools… nothing permanent.

Then I met Mr Dear Husband.  He comes from OLD stock.. not that he is old, but grew up in a house where his mother was born.  Where everybody on the street knows everybody.  Where 80 year olds meet up regularly with the friends they met in pre-school.  His childhood bedroom, a shrine left untouched since the day he went out into the big, wide world.  It was the fantasy I had always dreamed about.

3houses

But for the past 20 years, that feeling of ‘home’ has always just been out of reach, no matter how hard I stretched. 

Eight months ago, life changed – we ‘settled down’.  This was supposed to be it, the one, our time.  I thought all my dreams had come true.  Excited by the idea of building a life where I would never again have to send out ‘change of address’ letters.

50's housewife 2

So here I sit.  Sunday afternoon.  A beautiful, cold, crisp day.  Loathing in my heart.  I can’t explain it.  It is all so ordered – I don’t know how to live without the chaos.  It is the insanity that makes me feel alive.  This perfect world does not fit.  It is that gorgeous dress you saw in the store window, but when you tried it on, it looked like a sack of potatoes. 

Am I willing to take one for the team?  Is this what the wives in the 50’s went through?  Miss Eight is happy – happier than I have ever seen her.  Mr Dear Husband seems happy. 

I am not equipped for the game.  I am playing golf with a tennis racquet.  Everyone can see it, yet, no one is  brave enough to say anything. Lost.

50's housewife 3

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