I want to keep flying
Hi. My name is Alyson, and this is how I would tell my story if anyone cared to listen. It will not take long as the airport is only 10 minutes away from home.
I was born in a middle-class family in Overland Park, Kansas. My family worked very hard to move up the social ladder. My dad was an engineer in a local factory, and my mom was a housewife. For as long as I can remember, my parents were pretty strict about school education. They conformed to the norms, including ambitions and the value system. Our neighbors respected our family well, and my parents took immense pride in it until today.
I attended the local school, graduated from a nearby college with a law degree, and landed a fancy job in New York. My dad always said that things would work out fine if we set our eyes on the right path from day one. He has always been a pusher to think big and raise the standards.
Life went pretty fast for a young girl like me in New York. I found love in Tom and married him after dating for a year. We bought our first home, raised two kids, and like every other family in our neighborhood. The hardships of having a family of my own seemed manageable somehow. I give credit to my upbringing.
Society pushes everyone in all directions. The outcomes of every action of ours depend on the choice we make. I made the choices that were right to me at every juncture. To others, it looked like I was setting gold standards, but to me, for the first time, it felt like a big mistake.
I turned 30.
I started feeling suffocated in my house and among my own family. I only wanted to do things that made me feel good. My perspective seemed to have shifted towards me; it was only me this time. Tom noticed it. We had fights over things that were about routine, but the fight’s outcome questioned the meaning of our marriage. Everything seemed to trigger.
I was louder in my head even when I appeared quiet, calm, and listening to my kids tell me things that happened in school. There were constant fights over trivial things at home with Tom. We could not be in the same room together.
Therapists happened, parents interfered, friends filled in, and a few times, neighbors tried too. I was too scared that this would affect my kids. Guilt never took a day off from me.
I took a solo trip and felt my wings for the first time. I cried out, ate until I could not move, drank and smoked, hiked in the woods, took a long shower, and watched TV until wee hours.
After the trip, I saw myself appreciate and enjoy what I have created. Things improved between Tom and me. I no longer felt guilty.
I have finally started to play the role of myself. I now watch Tom, and the kids play from the sidelines. Somewhere I have found satisfaction in doing so.
The taste of the pretty world is an amazing one. It can be beautiful as well as poisonous. Then one day, I met Derek.
Derek was my first crush back in college. I made no attempts to let him know in college as I was busy making my life the systemic one.
He moved to the town where I lived, and my crush on him came back out of nowhere.
One phone call led to another; one solo trip led to another. All this happened while I was a mom, wife, daughter, and go-getter at the job.
I did not feel guilty. I did not feel less of a mom or wife. I gave myself no time to analyze my actions or the repercussions. Somewhere I thought I deserved this.
Soon, I was celebrating my 10th marriage anniversary and six months since meeting him in person in the same week. It felt surreal. Such power and authority, I have never felt in my life.
One day, Tom confronted me. He had doubts for a long time and waited for me to say it. I apologized and cried to him. It took a lot of courage for him to continue to be with me.
Life moved on fast, leaving me behind with reeling emotions and chaotic thoughts of having to let go of my newfound freedom.
Things went back to being sour in my marriage and life in general. The topic of divorce became a frequent one at home. Kids started to get tired of our constant fights over the same things.
As years passed, we kept growing further apart as a family, and divorce was no longer a topic or even needed. My kids left home to pursue their ambitions; life moved like a sloth. Tom seemed to be in his world, somewhere, contented.
Tom, I cannot do it anymore. Take Care. Alyson
I went to Tom’s room, left a note near his phone, picked up my bags, and left. I dialed Derek’s number in the car to let him know I was on my way to the airport.