Every other month or so I get together with a wonderful group of women who are in similar fields and own small businesses. The “PR Chix” are each others’ Board, executive team, shoulder to lean on and friends. We share ideas, wisdom, triumphs and heartache. Although I only see these women a few times a year, and always in a a mentor/mentee-type atmosphere, I love and rely on and respect them. Immensely.
At the last meeting we had, one of the women was talking about her summer and how she took some time for herself and spent a good deal of it surfing. She talked of her car full of sand and wet towels, and I felt like I was watching a movie. The other two talked about new romances, skiing, days at the beach and dating. They spoke of how they have both run marathons, international summer travels and going out in Boston.
It was so romantically glorious in my mind, picturing them all so carefree. I said to them, “Your lives are so interesting; you are so lucky, I never go anywhere.” They of course said, “Yeah, but we all want what you have.”
I am the only woman in the group who is married or has children. (Despite this, we have so much in common.) So when I hear of their lives I envy their freedom; when they hear of mine, they envy my stability/family.
When I came home, I told my husband of their adventures and how they all got to go to all these places all summer, had already run marathons (which I want to do), etc.
Boy did I feel dumb when he reminded me of all our travels in the previous year that I had forgotten to mention: San Francisco (All Star Game), Vegas (“Rocktober” with friends), Tampa/St. Petersburg (amazing stay at the Don CeSar Beach Resort with the kids) Hilton Head, Michigan, etc. – both with and without the kids.
And then, a few weeks later when he gave me this amazing gift (which had already been in the works), I felt even more dumb that I had not been more impressed with my own life to share it with my friends.
This is certainly a lesson I will never forget again.