Last summer, H asked me what makes me happy. This was because he truly didn’t know. I focused on career and scholarly stuff because that’s what I thought he was asking. He sort of scolded me, saying nothing I said had to do with family. Just the opposite. I was puzzled. I thought it was a mere misunderstanding due to an ambiguous question. Now I realize that the only thing I had that made me kind of happy was my work. I had complete autonomy over the path of my career. When I no longer derived satisfaction from it, or anything else in life for that matter, I chose the simple things I could do to get more involved/stay involved in my sons’ lives.
I’ve since explained to H that I misunderstood the question and that, of course, I derive happiness from my boys. Usually he floods me with more things “we need to do” to that end. Usually, I just stay satisfied with the fact that I found satisfaction in something. Moreover, not just a something, the most important something.