Confusion

     I have an ongoing battle with envy and gratitude.  I know how fortunate I am.  That good fortune began when I was born to intelligent parents.  We had a nice home in the suburbs.  I attended a Catholic grade school and, after a year in a regular (read: boys and girls) Catholic high school, I told my parents that I wanted to switch to an all girls' Catholic high school.  And off I went to Saint Mary of the Angels Academy.  I figured I'd be less of a loser in a school without boys.  Looking back, I'm glad I didn't ask my parents to send me to an all girls Catholic boarding school. One of my friends from grade school, a very sweet, smart, lovely person, was going there.  My parents would have gladly sent me off; I was getting to be quite the emotional handful.  Being a rather sheltered adoIescent, I was clueless about the cost of Catholic boarding schools.  I was clueless and confused and just plain scared of just about everything.   Adolescence is a bitch.  

       During those horrifying years, I spent a lot of time worrying about my weight, the delay in the onset of puberty (I wanted a bra, and tampons, dammit), my lack of friends, my fear of just about everything.  Despite my Catholic upbringing that taught selflessness and caring for others, I was extremely self-absorbed and unhappy.  I had a good home, plenty of food (probably too much food), a caring family (although nobody ever said, "I love you").  I wanted for nothing except perhaps self-confidence.  I'm sure I wasn't alone in my feelings and worries, but I was afraid to say anything to anyone.   I envied my younger sister; I envied her for her many friends, for her fearless participation in activities, for her intelligence.  I am ashamed to say that I envy her still.  

    Now, years and countless experiences, lessons, awakenings later, I still find myself looking enviously at huge houses and wondering who lives in them, and how they got so wealthy.  How did they get those places on the beach, on the lake, in the mountains...Then I remind myself that I have a nice home in a great neighborhood.  I feel safe and comfortable here.  Why the hell do I care about these ten bedroom monsters?  Seriously, WHY???  At this point, my husband and I live in a house with four bedrooms and two bathrooms.   Our two children have moved on to their own lives.  

    Honestly, I lack nothing except, perhaps, the ability to appreciate.  

  

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