Balance

Behind the scenes in all of the choices I've made over the last two years, there was Ryan. I chose to come back to Seattle during the summer after each year of law school because I wanted to make sure we had real face time with one another - being in a long distance relationship nine months out of the year was quite enough. I chose to got to the U of O instead of UC Davis in part to be closer to Ryan (though proximity to family and friends and the money also played a big part of that decision). I dreamed of obtaining that balance between a fulfilling career and domestic felicity (a husband, two kids, a house with a great kitchen and room for my books) which I suspect is the new American Dream of many of the women of my generation. Ryan helped me pick out my classes, find things on Westlaw, get in touch with attorneys, and reassure me that my own angst-filled experiences in law school were not so very different from his. We'd talk about the cases we were handling at our jobs or interesting legal issues that came up in the news; we'd discuss whether one point of an argument was stronger than another. This being my last year, I planned to do my damnedest to get a judicial clerkship or job in Seattle for this coming fall so I could stay close to Ryan. My plan for this year was to finish out my time in Oregon, graduate, move back to Washington and live with him while I prepared for the bar exam. I had this dream of us living in our very own home in Seattle with our student debt paid off and our respective law practices flourishing, and, in a couple of years, little feet running on hardwood floors. It seems, however, that Ryan does not share this last part of my dream. As much as two people can love each other, they cannot move forward together if they aren't traveling to the same place. He was undecided until recently about whether he wanted a family, but I had so hoped that he would come around, that maybe he would adopt my dreams as his own. In fact, I'd prayed for it, and I'm not entirely sure there's anybody up there listening, so I think that's a pretty good indicator of how much I wanted it. I wanted this man to be the one by my side as I graduated, studied and (hopefully) passed the bar, the one I walked down the aisle toward, the father of the children I always knew I would have. We had our issues, but he is kind, he's smart, he's generous, he understands me, he's considerate and thoughtful and he makes me laugh - and I still love him, even though I was the one to break it off. This year is going to be a hard one. I'm trying very hard to keep myself as busy with work and school as possible, but I feel a chronic sadness creeping in around the edges of all the tasks I undertake.

Now I feel, both personally and professionally, as though I am adrift in an unfamilar harbor after I'd been happily tethered for some time. What will I do now? My goal was to end up in Washington for my career and my family but now my options are wide open, and that quite frankly scares the hell out of me. I think that my ultimate goal is still to end up in Washington - my friends are there, my family is there, and for me it is particularly difficult to start over. But I'll never have a better chance to pursue that need for adventure that has been jangling around my brain for the last few months, or to pursue the secret career ambitions I've been harboring - to work for the NCLR in San Francisco, or the HRC or the Department of Education in Washington D.C., or to go into private practice in Portland, where most of my law buddies will end up. Or maybe, after all this talk of the need for a change and for adventure, I'll end up right back in Seattle after school. I know that is what friends and family would like best, but as I said, what better opportunity for adventure than now - when the ties to my original dreams have been severed?