Well, I washed all my gear, put everything in my skate bag, and put it in the back of the closet this weekend.
It feels like college graduation. I'm a little sad, a little resigned, and also pretty excited to be done with what feels like boring busywork (not talking about freshmeat coaching here: love freshmeat. Hate the impossibility of genuine communication in a group the size of DDG. Loved classes; hated all the small things required before graduation, like FAFSA exit exams, application paperwork, etc).
I had the best group of friends in college. We had a lot in common; we hung out together constantly, rollerbladed around the lakes, wrestled on the lawn, played a lot of Risk, jumped the train that went through our backyard, did all manner of crazy things together (sober, let me add).
But, really, we didn't have that much in common.
I was one of the first to graduate, and the whole semester leading up to graduation, I was in a completely different world. I still desperately loved my roommate and my closer guy friends. But they were going to keep doing the same things for another year or two, and I was, fairly inexplicably, going to move 18 hours south to the Heart of Dixie, just to do something different.
And it was never going to be the same. In high school, people think they'll forever be bffs with their friends. By college, I was ready to make the transition away, make it easier and less consumed with crying and not moving on.
Now is one of those transition-y times. I can't go anywhere now (really!) without people talking about my being pregnant. It's not really my preferred topic of conversation (probably not even in the top ten), but that's kind of out of my control. I'm the same, but my appearance and impending life changes require me to be someone else. And once I'm "officially" a mom, the difference between the people I consider to be like me and the people who consider me to be like them will be much bigger.
Let me clarify: I'm 100% thrilled about having a baby. I can't say I always imagined I'd be a mom, but I didn't really imagine not being one, at least after I met Jeff.
But soon, I'll be a mom who has some other interests. I won't be Brigitte, my own discrete person.
And, then, that's not even why I feel like I'm saying goodbye to DDG, possibly for good. There are a ton of people with kids, and there are a ton of girls I feel like I can at least passably call friends. I just can't imagine that after a long break, I'll want to come back to what feels more like a bureaucracy than either of my jobs do. It feels like I'm growing irreconcilably apart from DDG––not so much the people or the sport––just the organization.
But I'm still here for now. I've got at least three weeks till commencement.
Aww, thanks. I'll still be around, though, nominally. (And still wish you lived in Madison.)
ReplyDeleteAlso, edit: I don't mean bureaucracy as a bad word. I love bureaucracy when it works well. In fact, one of my degrees was pretty much to prepare me to be a career bureacrat, had it worked out that way.
It makes me sad too, but I am SO glad you live right down the street. (And I'm wishing Femi did too!) I see lots of bbq's and playdates in our future.
ReplyDeleteWhen things settle down for you a bit, I think you'll find something that's YOURS - a hobby or sport or group that isn't work or parenting and is a little carved out corner of time that you can call your own. I think that's so important, and I'm thankful that derby was that for me (and so much more) for a little while.
I also think it's kind of beautiful the way people drift in and out of each others lives at particular times. Some you are able to hold on to, and some you're happy to see go even though the impression they leave is substantial. It's just part of it and the way it's supposed to be. I know I won't ever forget the women I met through DDG, but will probably only stay in touch with a handful.