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Many months ago, during a deep conversation with my Good Man - a handsome, young widower who continues to restore my faith in men - we began talking about ’sacrifices’ and ‘choices.’ Or rather, I was rambling on about how I think women make sacrifices when they become wives and mothers – when he cut me off. “Do you really think of the decisions you’ve made as being sacrifices?” he asked. “Cause when I look back on the timeline of my life, I think I made choices…not sacrifices.”
His words left me feeling somewhat foolish. For he was right – the word ’sacrifice’ had an air of helplessness and regret about it. It was shrouded in a self-pitying “if only…” I thus decided to refrain from using that word again in that context.
But his past weekend, a situation with a married girlfriend had me speaking it again. As a part-time working mother of three young children, she’d been offered her ‘dream job’: we’re talking big money, challenge, clout, and recognition for all her many years of study and work. But what did she do? (read more here)
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