I Forgot to Marry My Ken Doll and Have Mountain Children and this is why

When I was a kid, my "happily ever after" (hereafter noted as "HEA") consisted of marrying my Ken doll (G.I. Joe was a close 2nd) and moving to Colorado where we would build a log home without a picket fence and have mountain children and a goat named Ed.


Then I went off to elementary school and when I was in that pivotal role of a 6th grader – not quite a child, not quite a teenager, I changed my mind and my HEA became  marrying a Veterinarian and having 5 dogs instead of 5 children and naming them Gus, Spade, Hank, Jack and Wilbur.

High school came along and my HEA became me and my friends moving to California and living together in one of those houses by Venice Beach like the ones in the movies where good looking, cool people live. We would run a taco stand on the boardwalk and play guitar and drink beer by a bonfire at night.

Then I made my way to University and all my HEA became – "What am I going to do with my life and how am I ever going to be able to move out of my parent’s basement and why can’t I keep a relationship going for longer than 3 months and why didn’t I move to Colorado with G.I. Joe or was it Ken?

Then I started my career and my HEA was a best seller, a loft in Old Montreal, a Mini Cooper (sky blue), a dog named Buddy, a boyfriend who understood that I need lots of alone time and two mountain children.

Then one day I woke up and I was 30. My HEA consisted of good health and lots of it, finding someone I could actually stand for more than 3 months who would be my best friend and my life partner, two big dogs and a log home made of logs and two mountain stepsons.

And you know what? I got some of that, lost some of that and now at the ripe age of 40 something, my HEA consists of good health because that trumps all else.

I have also come to the conclusion that Ken is just a doll.

His log home is fake.

He will never tell me that he loves me.

He won't be joining me for a game of  shuffleboard in the hot Florida sun.

And sometimes as good as something looks from a distance, it never looks the same from close up.