Potential Problem

I've been thinking a lot lately about potential and how maybe for the first time in my life I don't have any. I'm not sure if that sounds arrogant or sad, and maybe it's both. I'm not necessarily depressed about the potential problem or anything, but it has led me to some interesting reflections.

Americans, and maybe every society, love a person with potential. When I was in school- high school, college, grad school- I was always asked about my plans and what I intended to do with my degrees, and it all sounded very interesting- precisely for the fact that I hadn't done any of it yet. I would tell people what I wanted to do and I would get wrapped up in the idea of just being able to do those things...someday, and that kind of potential is fun and attractive. Having the potential to teach English at a community college is much cooler than actually doing it(and I like my job). And now, at parties and get-togethers, I love talking to people who haven't graduated yet because I get to imagine with them what they could do, and it's exciting. It's much more fun talking about the future with a person in law school than it is talking about the future with a lawyer.

This doesn't just happen with school and jobs either. When David and I were engaged so many people would ask about the wedding, where we were going to live, our plans, and on and on and on. And it is fun to talk to engaged people because they have their entire lives together before them, none of it has happened yet, and it's fun to see all that potential. I think that's why older people love to ask young couples when they are going to get engaged; they want to be excited about the future. But almost two years after our wedding, no one cares about how long we've been married, and they certainly don't care that we were once engaged. And I'm not saying people should. I mean, honestly, who doesn't get married? Almost everyone does it, even people who are terrible at it, so I don't feel special about it. Yet when I was engaged to be married, oh man, people thought that was sumpthin' special. But no, after people are married, they have to move on to the next big potential thing: having a baby.

How do I know that I've milked my marriage for all its potential? People are starting to ask me when I'm going to have a baby. And having a baby is exactly like to two examples above. During the nine months of expectancy, people are positively beside themselves about what could be with their friend's baby. What are you going to name it? How far along are you? Do you have the baby's room ready? And to be fair, pregnant women deserve some excitement about their potential. Just from an outsider's perspective, it looks like it sucks being pregnant, so these women should at least have people asking them fun questions. But what happens after the baby is born? Well, they have a baby. They have the thing they were expecting. I certainly don't make a big to-do about the fact that someone has a baby every time I see them the way I did when that same person was pregnant. That would be weird. "Oh, you have a baby." "Oh, you still have a baby" "What's it like still having a baby?"

So maybe fulfilling one's potential is never as exciting as possessing that potential . That doesn't mean the fulfillment isn't better- just maybe less interesting. I'd rather be working than back in school (most days), I'd rather be married than engaged, and I'm sure most women would rather have their children on the outside instead of the inside. But still, it's nice to have some potential. I don't know when I'll get some potential back, but I'll be excited when I get it.