I was wrong.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the things in my life I used to be certain of, things that I knew for sure were absolutely true, and it turns out that I was wrong about all of them. Not about nitpicky and trivial things, like what temperature of water is best for washing dishes, but about big life stuff. Looking back now, it seems that I knew an awful lot for such a young kid.

For example, I remember very well what it felt like to fall in love as a young teenager. I knew we were going to spend the rest of our lives together—I just knew it. And when we broke up, I knew it was only temporary. It was simply a matter of time until we were back together again, the way it was supposed to be. I also knew that if that never happened, my life was over and I would never be able to survive without him. Eventually, though, I had no choice but to move on, and by then I knew that I never wanted to fall in love again. Love was too painful and too unreliable. I knew I had to get married for logical, practical reasons. But I also knew that no one would ever want to marry me anyway, because I was too difficult and complicated, and because I knew I would not get married, I also knew that I would never, ever have the children I so badly wanted. So of course, it was a total surprise when I met someone who wanted to marry me. I was thrilled because I knew I had figured out the rest of my entire life and that I would never have to be alone again, and more importantly, I knew I would never be hurt again. I also knew that I was making this choice for all the right reasons and that our marriage could withstand anything, because we knew how to solve any problem that came our way. We had a Bible, a rule book, and it had all the answers for us; God would not allow us to fail. It really was a great feeling to know that I had everything about my life figured out by age 25.

And now, two kids and one separation later, I know I was wrong about everything I used to know. I also know that right now, it feels like my life is over, and that I am going to be a single mom forever. I am also going to end up living with my parents forever because there is just no way I can ever move out of here and be on my own again. I am sure of it.

Usually, I really like being right. But if it turns out that I’m wrong again, I have a feeling I’m going to be pretty happy about it.