Well, I just went and did something downright crazy.
I spent my airplane miles on a ticket to Art Unraveled, an arts festival and workshop conference that's taking place in Phoenix, in August. But that's not the crazy part. The crazy part is that I just went ahead and ordered the tickets, without consulting anyone.
It feels strange to even confess this, but I seem to have lost the art of making my own decisions. Somewhere along the line, between managing the kids and creating an inclusive marriage, I have ceased to just do anything. Instead, I find myself asking for my husband's permission. And just to even bring this to my consciousness makes me feel really weird. I have no idea how this happened. I marched into this marriage with long fluttering banners that declared my Independence and my Freedom, but the banners have gotten tangled up in the white picket fence.
It's not like Scott is some kind of ogre, either. He's well aware that I'm fence-sensitive. But something happens in a marriage, some kind of pre-disposed ancestral rhythm that encourages women to fold themselves into the family and disappear.
Well, lately I've been feeling a resurgence of the old Wild One, the one that needs to be free. I don't need to drink anymore, but I do need to be free. And in this particular case, I need to be free to go to an art festival.
So I will.