The tears threaten to fall, so I blink and smile as I walk to the car, head held high, no one the wiser that there is a part of me breaking. A part of me wondering why, wondering what is wrong, wondering why it's happening again, and wondering if it will ever end. A simple meeting turned into a stark reminder of my place, outside the circle, yet again.
Seven years ago we moved here, seven years of searching for connection, to build that local community, to build and find that tribe, and here I am, still on a quest. The first few years spent on the cusp of the circle, dancing at the edges, always taking steps to find where a married, working mom of 4 fit into this new community. I was still learning how to be a working mother after a long practice of being a graduate student mother, and the transition was not smooth, yet I was hopeful that in this community I would find my place, my footing. It seemed that I was making a place for this family of mine, and then it changed when my status went from married to single. In a community that is designed for 2 parent households, I found myself thoroughly on the outside.
Four years ago standing on the outside of the circles I had finally managed to find a small acceptance I found the lines redrawn and the steps to make my way forward towards and into the community in which my children thrived were monumental to me. In a time when I needed my community to support me as I established my role as a single parent I was abandoned by most here. Over these past 4 years I have found my footing and worked diligently to create and live a less life ordinary. The drawback to a non-traditional lifestyle is living life on the outskirts within your own community.
This means driving through your neighborhood and seeing a neighbor having a party and knowing you weren't invited, hoping your children don't notice. But of course they notice, and then they ask: "why weren't we invited, I thought we were friends" and you find yourself saying that you don't know and maybe it's not a neighborhood party and pray to anyone who's listening to support your statement. Then of course your child spots a neighbor walking to the party and your statement is no longer valid. Now your child is wondering aloud at this point why we're never really invited to parties, echoing the inner thoughts in your head. You find a way to console them, remind them of the adventure/activity we are on way to, and pray that it's forgotten in time from their mind, knowing that the moment will be etched within your own. You remind them of all of the parties they have attended and the fun we've created at our own small parties, praying that it's enough. Praying that your children are at least welcome places if your family as a whole is not, all the while building a damn to prevent a flood of tears.
A life less ordinary is not for the faint of heart, especially with children in tow. It's working through each of those situations above, praying that you are making the best decisions for yourself and your children, while honoring the needs of all parties. As a single parent it's questioning every decision more than when you were in a 2 parent household, analyzing each choice and decision. It's finding the consequences of your choices in simple actions such as attending a parent meeting and no one will engage in conversation with you because these critical relationships were developed when your life was upended. On nights such as these when you make solid attempts at engaging in simple conversation with other parents only to be rejected or ignored you begin questioning what is wrong with you, why you are always on the edges, why after 7 years you still are tribeless in a community that thrives on connection. There are moments when it's too much to bear and the tears threaten to pour down because you're tired; you're tired of the inner reminders you tell yourself that you are enough, that you are worth it, and that these other people are missing out. It's wishing for a welcoming face at an event, a person to share the moments with; wishing that for that brief period you are welcome into the circle. It's finding the last of your inner strength and courage to be the parent you want to be and the person you want to be. It would be easier for a short period to don a fake smile, fake attitude and play the games to be accepted into these circles and community. Yet I would not be honoring the person I am continuing to become, so I accept the tears and find a quiet moment to release them, and pray for a tribe for my family.
