McDonald's

I took night classes towards my masters degree in my early 20s. We had just moved into this crappy apartment in the suburbs and the college I was working for paid for your advanced degree as a benefit. It was too good of a deal to pass up and after barely squeaking out of undergrad, I had a lot to prove to myself.

I would stop at Starbucks on the way to class and get a small vanilla chai tea. This was an especially indulgent treat in 2003 but I convinced myself that it would keep me engaged. I then sat in a room full of older adults and seemingly much younger kids, pretending to have some sort of grasp of the world and what I was doing with my life.

On the way home, I would listen to Delilah dole out wisdom to the heartbroken, all while ignoring my own feelings of disconnect and doubt. Halfway home, I would pass a McDonald’s. And every single time I passed it, I had the same random thought. “If I was single, I could stop and get dinner there. I could just eat McDonald’s whenever I wanted.”

It was so random and absurd but there was already this sense that at 24, my life was not my own. My decisions were tied to someone else. I needed to account for my time and money spent. It wasn’t in a controlling way but rather a sense of obligation and responsibility that I felt, and have felt over the past twenty years. I needed to think about everyone else first. Choosing jobs, passing on grad school and law school, finding a home and planning vacations always included and prioritized everyone else. Even dinner choices were not solely mine.

I passed that same McDonald’s a few weeks ago. It was a bizarre realization that I could eat McDonald’s whenever I wanted. Especially ironic now that I don’t want to eat it. But the feelings of being tied to something, someone, or a routine were gone. And although eating McDonald’s is hardly a way to celebrate independence, it was freeing to know that my decisions have now become my own. I spend my time and my money the way I want to. No one is checking on me. No one is asking questions. And no one gets to weigh in on my choices.

I still make a majority of my life choices based on my kid. But my free time has become my time. I don’t rush in stores anymore. I don’t hesitate when buying something small but seemingly unnecessary or ridiculous. I watch what I want. I eat what I want. I keep the heat on the temperature I am most comfortable. And all of my future plans are taking into account only my goals and dreams. Scary and overwhelming but definitely thrilling.

I still struggle to make my own choices and not rely on input from others. It is still an effort to actually look inward and ask myself what I want. I still have doubts that I am able to make the best decisions or the right ones. I still try to put others first and worry that I will be seen as too selfish or assertive. I am still struggling to trust myself and to put myself first. Struggling not to feel guilty for putting myself first.

I did stop at McDonald’s the other day on ann impulse but I forgot to throw the bag away. My teenager got into my car and promptly found it. He picked it up with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal on his face.

“When did you get McDonald’s without me?? You can’t get it without me!”