Have We Lost the Idea of Hope? When Do We Let Go of Our Childhood Dreams?

I remember being twelve years old telling my parents I could not wait to grow up. I knew I was going to have this absolutely fabulous life once I hit my 20s. I could picture myself having sophisticated conversations, going out on extravagant dates, and having an incredible wardrobe with all the latest fashion.

Now being twenty-four I think back to that twelve year old and wonder what was I thinking? Yes my conversation with peers has evolved past my twelve year old days. I now compare martinis instead of troll dolls however I have yet to go on a date in an evening gown or for that matter anywhere extremely exceptional and my wardrobe mostly consists of small treasures I dug out of a sales bin.

Once you hit a certain point in your life do you start to realize you may never have that fabulous wardrobe or regular conversations about the finances of America?

One thing I never thought of while envisioning my fabulous 20s was divorce. However my good friend Shifra after months of fighting has decided her one year marriage was no longer an extravagant match. I tried to sound shocked as she told me over the phone one night that she was going to keep the house and a wedding gift couch would be the new bed for her husband till the divorce was finalized. I tired to sound supportive but I found myself wondering if I could get back my expensive kitchen aid I had foolishly invested on their marriage. After she gave me the basic details of who was going to get what I changed the subject to plans for the weekend and discussed what fabulous bar we should attend to celebrate her freedom.

I told my boyfriend Archer about it that night his shock and sympathy for my friend made me recognize how little the news bothered me. I tried to rationalize that she had been playing with the idea for months but in the end I realized a friend of mine that was only twenty-three years old was going to be divorced. And when she told me the first thought I had was a kitchen aid gift and then going out to celebrate her freedom.

I wonder if society has made me immune to the idea of divorce. When you live in a country where five year marriages are considered long and there is no outcry from the public when celebrity marriages only last six months, do you start to forget how tragic a divorce really is?

Since phone conversation did not go well with Shifra I decided to bring it up again. This time I was determined to ask questions and make sure overall her mental health was good (had visions of Shifra overdosing on pain medicine and me being on the news saying I never saw it coming). Shifra was better than good she was relieved and furthermore did not see a reason to discuss the topic further. I attempted to bring it up several times but she reassured me she was fine and felt discussing the Fed Ex's guys ass was more imperative at the time.

Days later we went out to celebrate her freedom. I kept waiting for the shock to hit her. I was expecting a weeping bathroom moment or perhaps a realization that she would soon be twenty-three, divorced, single mom. It never happened. The night was unmemorable and routine as any other Friday night out with my female friends.

The next morning over McDonald's breakfast (attempted to cook pancakes but realized half way through did not have milk) Archer asked how Shifra was doing. I gave him the rundown and my feelings about Shifra's reaction. Archer shrugged and said maybe she is happy about it. I decided to drop the subject with him realizing that was reacting the way I was about the situation.

The weeks passed and enviably life for Shifra did get harder. The fights were horrible and two people that at one time loved each other deeply could hardly be in the same room together. I tried to be there for her. I tried to put aside my feelings on divorce and truly listen to what she had to say. In all honesty, I found it hard. I wanted to slap her and say get over it, life will get better. But knowing that would not be the correct action (for starters Shifra could severally hurt me if I ever slapped her) I kept listening. As time passed I realized that while Shifra was the one to finally say she wanted out of the marriage it was still painful and still a huge hurdle to overcome. It made me realize that sometimes we as people make choices that in the long run we know are the right ones it does not mean it still does not hurt in the present moment.

The part that was the hardest for me to understand was the fact that Shifra and her husband (very soon to be ex) were great before they got married. I never heard of any huge fights or regrettable words that were exchanged. It made me wonder what happened... and more so would they still be together if one October day they did not exchange vows. I like to think the relationship would have ended either way, but in truth you never know.

I do know that my 20s are nothing like I pictured as a twelve year old. But that is ok. There is stress, depression, worry, and hardships. However there are also joys and great moments that I never would have considered when I was twelve. Who would have thought I would enjoy Saturday mornings with my boyfriend eating dirty McDonald's breakfast just as much and maybe more than going out to four course meal in an evening gown.