light & gather

When I was younger, I spent a lot of time in my room. I’d read The Secret Garden and Mary Poppins. I’d imagine how many pieces of paper you would need to make up all the stars in the galaxy. One of my favorite movies was Peter Pan. I’d jump off the couch when he took flight, hoping that maybe I’d fall through pixie dust. Those were my quiet secrets. As I grew up, I started listening to British indie rock, reading Shakespeare, listening to opera, and pretending to be amused by the things my friends thought were funny. I was quiet, but I knew I had a presence. Maybe I was too aware, which is why I’d sneak off to the library. I always thought I wanted to be alone.

“Those were my quiet secrets.”

“I was quiet but I knew I had a presence.”

I used to romanticize the way the world looked when I was the only one who was in it. When I was alone, I imagined drapes and curtains hanging from the ceiling of my bedpost, the floor would be covered in pillows, and the door would lead to a garden of flowers. And on rainy nights, I’d leave the door open and watch the rain while I waited for whatever opera was scheduled to be broadcast on the radio. I was in love with the life I never had. I couldn’t get it out of my head, and it followed me everywhere.

“I was in love with the life I never had.”

“I used to romanticize the way the world looked when I was the only one who was in it.”

But I was the oldest of three sisters, so responsibility also followed me everywhere. And that was hard to shake because responsibility takes on a lot of different forms. It’s not just making sure you didn’t lose your phone or keeping an eye on your younger siblings. Responsibility also comes with setting the example, being the first to leave your mark so that others can come after you with greater ease. This is a hard thing to carry, and if I had to be honest, it is a lot to put on a teenager, much less a kid. I thought if I could be alone, then I wouldn’t be responsible for anyone, and I would be free—kind of like Peter Pan. But as all but one must do, I had to grow up, and the idea of that didn’t bother me as much as it did to actually do it. And while I knew I wanted to be a mother, I had absolutely no concept of how to start a family.

“Responsibility also comes with setting the example.”

“I thought if I could be alone then I wouldn’t be responsible for anyone.”

Turns out, as much as it happened upon me, the family I have was entirely intentional. A lot goes into starting a family, but even more goes into having one. But I’ll go easy on you and say that one of my favorite parts is starting traditions—in this case, Christmas traditions. My husband and I had already started doing some of these back when we were just dating, but it means more now that we have a child. He, like me, was a quiet person who had made his own world to retreat to when the world became too much for him. And together we took bits and pieces of our worlds and combined them to make the world we live in now together. And from that world came our son, who we hope to pass down bits of our world through traditions and tender moments.

“The family I have was entirely intentional.”
“Together we took bits and pieces of our world and combined them.”

“From that world came our son.”