Future Fears

In these past few years, my Facebook feed has slowly become not about my friends’ lives, but the lives of their children. I used to do a double-take when a friend’s profile pic showed them suddenly thirty years younger than they were the day before, but now I sigh and say, “Another baby.” What’s really weird is when you are friends with a couple and they move away and then have children. And you get to see these strange hybrids of the people you once knew.

I’ve always been friends with people older than me, due to maturity or just a general sense of needing to run from whatever crowd I’m typically surrounded with. So my friends have been having babies for some time, but the older I get, the more common it’s becoming. And, you guessed it, the older I get the more I stress about having kids one day. I’ve always known two things about myself, that I want to be a writer and I want to have kids.

Only now that I’m twenty-nine, this has become a real problem. First of all, I’ve never had a boyfriend beyond two months because in my mind, dating means sex and sex means rape. And you kind of have to have sex to have kids, at least if you want to be a mother to your own offspring, without paying a bazillion dollars to be artificially inseminated.

Also, I still hate life most of the time. I still have suicidal thoughts every day. It takes a lot of courage for me to not kill myself, so I’m nowhere near believing that life is so great that I should actually pass it on to another person. While I am aware that it’s a fucking miracle to be alive, and that I’m so fortunate to be alive and as healthy as I am, I’ve yet to feel happy with my life. I don’t want to bring a kid into a world that doesn’t have happiness in it that I can count on.

I’m so scared, though, that I could never be happy without having kids because I love kids SO much. I’m beginning to resent my form of happiness.

And most of the time I think that I’m too fucked up to have kids. What kind of parent would I be, covered in self-inflicted scars? I’ve always felt like a target for predators, and I’m afraid my kids would come out just like me, hating themselves and feeling victimized at every turn. I feel toxic.

In a year I’ll turn thirty. My mom had me when she was twenty-five! No pressure, right?

I can only hope that the next five years or so will bring good things for me. That I can accomplish my dream of becoming a published writer, that I can earn enough money to keep myself alive, and then maybe those two things will give me enough purpose and security to think about trying to date. Fighting my fears that every man is a rapist. And then, if I can feel safer in this world, maybe I can find happiness, at least some of the time. Enough to feel like having children wouldn’t be selfish, but the opposite of that.

I also need to look my childhood sexual abuse in the face, really try to understand it because right now, my abuse just makes me feel like every kid out there will be hurt so badly. They are so vulnerable and there are so many bad people out there.

I need to start small. Like this week, I am totally psyched to see The Nut Job with my friend Andrea and her daughter Bea. Bea is the coolest kid ever and she makes me so happy. I feel like no one better than she will understand my excitement for this movie about squirrels AND a pug.

So if I ever seem like this mental health superhero to you, maybe this post will remind you of how much self-doubt and fear I still have. How far I have to go. If you are scared about your future – and really, who isn’t? – think about sharing your fears. Turning feelings into words is a powerful remedy. It gives you something to work with, instead of the swirling pit of chaos it can feel like when it stays trapped inside.

What does your ideal future look like? Where do you want to go? What would you want for your kids one day? Is there a way for you to get there yourself, first?

If you get overwhelmed thinking about the future, plant both of your feet on the floor to remind yourself of your present. Focus on your breathing. It’s super easy to get lost in our heads, thinking about all the “what ifs” we have yet to face.

You aren’t alone!