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I'm not sure who the middle aged chick is in the mirror. She's getting lines around her mouth, wrinkles on her forehead and always has bags under her eyes.

This lady was going to be somewhere else in her life when she was nearing 40, but she doesn't remember where. Now she works full time in a corporate environment, has three (great) kids, a (wonderful) husband and a (beautiful) home. She wouldn't trade her life for anything but is bothered she can't recall what her dreams were.

Some days I can't seem to accept who I am and what I've become. I'm a mother, wife, daughter, niece, aunt, and friend. I'm a loyal/bitter/thankful employee. At heart, I'm a writer, a crafter, a reader, a scholar. I'm a sarcastic, wise-cracking, smart-aleck, mini-driving mama. And I have a past I try to forget nearly every day of my life.

Before most of these joyous things appeared in my life, I was the wife of a convict, the unseasoned companion to a street-smart sociopath, the mindless teen who didn't have the wrinkles, lines or cellulite that come with life's experiences. I had a hunger for a good time. Before I was a mother, but long after I was a daughter, I was a summons-receiving, fugitive-harboring fool. I was a high school graduate that regularly appeared on the honor roll, but couldn't (or wouldn't) summon the inner strength and common sense to walk away from what everyone knew was a disastrous, destructive relationship. Perhaps it was the strong, stubborn desire to prove my family and friends wrong about my "X" which clouded any reasonable judgment. Maybe it was sheer hot blood that was a catalyst for my irrational behavior.

Over the course of 5+ years I became a person I now pretend I never was. I was a member of a not-so-elite club that traveled unmentionable distances to subject themselves and their child to a personal search before boarding a clunky, loud, sky-blue bus to take the seemingly endless ride to the visitation trailer. With "X" choosing prison over me, I wrote letters, accepted collect phone calls, had a daughter, and made decisions that were hurtful to friends, family, even strangers. I can't blame youth. I was an intelligent young lady. I was simply irresponsible and selfish.

I went to work part-time, filed for divorce and went back to college. After 2 more co-dependent relationships, I finally broke the cycle. Celebrating a friend's divorce at a local drinking establishment one summer night, I met the man that has helped me become what I am now. He's helped me become the better mother, wife, daughter, niece, aunt, and friend. He's helped me continue to be an employee (however much I complain about corporate schlepping and politics).

Maybe there's nothing left to hide from. I've conquered quite a lot. Maybe there's no longer a reason to hide from that wonderful me that has bags under her eyes from getting up at night with a precious infant son, getting a mid-night drink of water for the beautiful 4 year old, or rising early to take my spectacular teenager to high school. That wonderful me that has lines, wrinkles, cellulite, more than an inch to pinch, and countless other fabulous features has been hiding from what even greater things I can become. No more. I'm even willing to stop hiding from my second chin. Coincidentally, that fabulous feature started to appear when I started this second (and best) chapter in my life. Now I rememberthese were my dreams and they're coming true.

Learn more about this author, Julie Sewell-Schmidt.
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