When I was single I think was pretty adventurous. For example, after graduation from BYU, I moved to Utila, Honduras to become a SCUBA Dive Master. I hopped on a plane and arrived by myself on a tiny island in Central America without a place to stay or a single acquaintance. I found a dive shop and a room to stay for $1 per night until I got more settled. For three months, I dove multiple times each day and completed vigorous dive training. Luckily I made some great friends but people often asked me how I was brave enough to go there all alone. I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time.
(Can you see me in the red bandana?)
During dental school, I decided I wanted to finish where I left off with my dive training and went to Thailand and Malaysia to become a Dive Instructor and do some traveling. This was a little harder for me as I not only knew no one, but the culture shock of Asia was much more than the traveling I had done in the Western Hemisphere (mostly not being able to read signs or understand anything).
Do you think it is just getting older? Or is it being married? Suddenly I feel much less adventurous or independent. I have vacation time that I can’t coordinate with my husband and instead of going somewhere myself like I would have done in the past, I sit at home bored. I realized this even more this morning as Abraham is at work today. I’m contemplating going to the IC Farmer’s Market downtown. On my bike. And I’m having a hard time sticking to my plan. What is the deal, I have a hard time going to the grocery store alone now!
Maybe I’ve just learned to become more dependent on him. I think sometimes he thinks I couldn’t take care of myself. I like to tell him, “I lived without you for almost 25 years!” But somehow the 5 five that I have lived with him have had a profound effect. I don’t think I could live without him anymore. Or I really wouldn’t like to.
Or maybe I’m just getting old and wimpy.
I think I better man up and get on that bike…