Lesson #10: Don't Be A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy
I wore a long, white, satin and lace ball gown to my senior prom. One might even say it resembled a wedding dress. That's because it did. I purposely chose a white dress at age 16 because I had a strong feeling that would be the last chance I'd have to wear one. How did I know that with such certainty? And why has it come true? Maybe it was because I never really dated anyone until my 20s, was something of an ugly duckling who was not aware of her swan-like qualities, and was the prototypical child of divorced parents. Gun shy was an understatement. But the problem is I started to believe my own story. Just because I went to a nearly all-girls' artsy school with no boys, and no one wanted to date me in high school (all two of them), I then deemed myself undatable. This continued throughout college and medical school, one disappointment serving to reinforce the next. Suddenly I was "right all along" and began collecting hundreds of dating disasters as currency for my street cred of always a bridesmaid.
I've watched nearly all of my close friends beat me to the altar and the baby carriage, and they never fail to ask about my "exciting dating life;" I've always been glad to oblige.
But not anymore.
After decades of disappointment, I no longer wish to be the spinster spinning yarns. I don't want to regale my friends and family with the horrors of last night's dating disaster. A few months ago I decided I was going to change who I am. I am OK with being the girlfriend, the fiancee, and the wife. It's not selling out or giving up my identity. I don't want the senior prom prophecy to come true after all. Even if it means I was wrong and could have worn something chic and short and modern and fabulous. If things go according to the new plan, at least I will get to have a white dress do-over.