Life Is Not A Checklist

Dear Life Expectations.

I Quit.

Everyone will remember a time when they thought they could do it all.

As though life was a giant checklist, goals to be ticked off one by one, rather than an experience to be savoured for as long as we have it. As if, for life to be worth living, you had to meet a series of pre-determined goals before you die. As if Life had no more variety than a single fabricated fantasy, forever just out of reach.

High School Graduation, University, House Ownership, a Career, Marriage, Children... Maybe at the end you'll get to retire and do all that travel you were too busy for in your younger years, and try all the hobbies you didn't get around to in your 20s and 30s and 40s and 50s and...

Screw that.

We were taught to think we wanted all those things, because that's the fantasy that media tried to sell us. That we could, all by ourselves, work a full day, come home to a house that we kept clean without help and home-cooked meals that we made ourselves. That we could have time for work and hobbies and housekeeping and parenting and a full night of sleep, all in the same 24 hours.

It was a lie.

It was always a lie. The fantasy of the 50s housewife? She had a maid/nanny, paid less than minimum wage to deal with all of the unpleasant parts of housekeeping. Among the working class, it was common for both parents to work, with housekeeping and cooking managed by grandparents and older children in inter-generational households.

A pretty lie, to make us feel Not Good Enough every time we looked around at a dwelling that needed a time machine to have enough hours to keep it spotless without outside help. A twinge of guilt every time we purchased take-out, or a freezer-meal for the days when spending half an hour to make even a toasted sandwich felt like the straw that would break the camel's back. The flash of shame when we remembered how our mothers and grandmothers seemed to be able to do it all, because we never saw the organised cleaning crews of aunts and neighbours and favours done and owed that kept it all running behind the scenes.

I say: NO MORE!

I'm doing a little bit of clean-out every night, working toward gettint my house to the point where I can pay a cleaner to come in to handle the floors and bathrooms once a month.

I am a night owl, but on days when I can't sleep in, I'm grabbing an Up-and-Go, similar to a protein shake but much better-tasting, to drink on the way to work.

I've got a spare freezer, and once a month, I spend the day cooking to fill it up with tupperware containers of pre-made work lunches: shepards pie made with secret vegetable mince, chicken and two vegetables, soup, pasta... easy to reach in and grab a container to add to the water-bottle and mid-day caffine hit and something sweet that go into my lunch bag each day.

Fed is best, even if "fed" is your topping of choice on toast for dinner.

I make my lunch for the next workday as soon as I get home, so I can simply grab it out of the fridge on the way out the door the next morning.

I've recently been unpacking (in therapy) the concept that a lot of the things I thought I wanted out of a relationship were things that I was conditioned to think I wanted, by media and because it was 'normal'. Trying to sort out what I actually want from what I feel like I'm supposed to want has been a trip and a half, but it released a lot of pressure I hadn't even realised I'd been carrying.

A lot of my wanting to get married was wanting a tangible symbol of my love for my Beloved, and fear that without a legal tie, they wouldn't be accepted. The first time I proposed was during the first COVID lockdowns, when I was working on the front lines of Aged Care and terrified that I was going to die before I even hit 40.

My Beloved and I have both been very lucky in our parents; we don't need to fear being iced out if anything happens to the other one, like so many of the LGBTQIA+ community have valid reason to fear. We also don't plan on combining finances, having children, or many of the other expectations that come with marriage.

I started wearing a ring after our 5th anniversary. It's subtle, a celtic knotwork raven in gold and a tiny emerald, far from the traditional giant diamond comprising most wedding rings these days. It suits me, though, and that's the important thing.

Two of my co-workers are currently planning weddings, and from the stress and money figures involved, I'm reasonably sure that I don't want a Big Fancy Wedding, with a guest list in the multiple hundreds.

A party with our nearest and dearest, to celebrate us and our love, on the other hand? That might be nice, when we aren't perpetually burnt out.

My life has been infinitely happier and less stressed since I accepted that I don't have to do it all, and success is a personal measure of what makes you happy, not a static list that many people will never achieve, even if they wanted to.

So, Expectations, go screw yourself, while I live my life how I want.

Sincerely, but not very respectfully,

Natasja Rose