Monday, August 19, 2013
Crossing the Tracks
I think I've crossed the tracks.
You see, growing up, I always felt like that girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Perhaps, I would've felt differently had I gone to public school, but I didn't. My parents scraped together every penny, sometimes worked two jobs, and sacrificed to send their kids to private schools.
In high school, I was the tormented girl who felt she didn't belong with the rich kids. You know, the ones who drove to school in their new BMWs on their 16th birthday, vacationed in Italy over Spring break, and wore designer duds to school. Looking back, now I'm ashamed to admit these feelings of insecurity, but what can I say? I was a teenaged girl who desperately wanted to keep up with the crowd. How stupid.
Up until this point, I've felt Doc H and I (yes, I'll include myself here since I was working until 2 years ago) have provided for our family well. Our kids have everything they want. If we refused to buy it for them, they would save up and buy it for themselves. Our kids are good with money. We're good with money.
Coming from humble, working class families, we are sensible with our money. I think Doc H would admit, I am the more frugal. While I want to negotiate everything down to the deal of the century, Doc H takes a more kumbaya approach, wanting our dealings to be a win-win affair for all involved. He'll slice and dice humans, but forget about slicing prices. He is a salesperson's dream. Yet, we save money, we budget money, we invest money, and Doc H works harder than any person I've ever met.
And now, thanks to that little medical device Doc H invented, here we are. And it hit me just like that. Peering over Doc H's shoulder, I watched as he sketched a design idea. I mumbled a few ideas... what I liked and what I absolutely did not like. At the flip of a pencil, he began erasing to incorporate some of my suggestions. And that's when this new, unfamiliar sensation hit me, only to send me flying over the tracks into what felt like an out of body experience.
There we were designing a custom driveway gate for our second home, and I stood there and for the first time in my life, I felt privileged.
I cannot deny it any further. I am no longer that girl, the girl whom I'm used to being, the girl I love, and it scares me. I have crossed the tracks and I'm falling into new territory.