All I had imagined for my personal life at age twenty was that I would get married, have three kids, and enjoy taking care of a family. It’s laughable now since I don’t particularly like children, unless they belong to people I love. I had nuclear-family dreams because I had bought into the notion that the way I grew up—in a single-parent home, with a mismatched family of aunties and uncles and cousins and grandparents bringing up the rear—was not optimal. So part of my success story involved having it all—the house, the car, the career, the pretty man, and the kids.
