Desperately seeking Myshka

I used to have The Missus as my moniker, and I realized something: As much as I am proud of the fact that I'm a missus, and I adore my marriage, that's only a part of who I am. Myshka has been around since I was a pudgy little lump with a big face, and it's important for me to not forget that. And thanks to my friend Amanda, for helping me see that sparkle again.

Myshka means "little mouse" in Ukrainian, and I was called that when I was little because of many things: I was born premature, I seemed to get into everything and poke my nose in everyone's business, and quite coincidentally, I love cheese. My parents have never called me by my given name, ever. Always Myshka. I miss hearing that name (probably because all adults have moments where they don't want to grow up), and I think as we get older we should remember the things that made us feel like kids. Hard to do, but nice to think about once in a while.

Part of settling down here in London is remembering who I am and what I want. Sounds easy, right? Well, I'm the kind of person that wants to make sure everyone is happy and never want for anything, ever. It's unrealistic, but I think if I really try, I can do it. Wonder Woman, eat your heart out.

I'm realizing that there is a delicate balance: I can do that, but as long as I don't sacrifice myself in the process. Because no one is going to take care of me and what I want unless I attempt to help myself first. I think this is what's been frustrating me for the past few months, and I only just realized it. Hey, it takes time to understand yourself, right? I know lots of women out there who are exactly like me, and with age, they get wiser to the fact that loved ones respect you and understand you more when you are true to yourself. They'll always be there for you no matter what, but they can't fight your battles for you all the time.

My early New Years resolution (and I never make them) is to just take time for me and remind myself that I'm not only the missus, I'm the executive, I'm the horse-lover, I'm the jewelry-maker, I'm the hostess with the mostess, and I'm the one that tells bad jokes and laughs at her own punchlines. And the millions of other colours in between.

That's Myshka.