I don't mean to sound sad or cynical, but I'm closing in on 40 and it's time to get pragmatic and real about shit.
For me, at least, my 20s sucked. Everyone said they were supposed to be amazing, which only made them suck harder. I had zero self esteem. My 20s were all about making decisions of which I would then reap the consequences (good, bad, or inbetween) in my 30s.
My 30s were the lived-out fallout from the decisions of my 20s, and the fact is that mostly good stuff happened. At least on paper, if not in my own fucked-up head.
Now that I'm about to be 40, I feel like it's time to come to terms with the fact that certain things just aren't going to happen for me.
I'm not going back to medical school to be just like my mom. I'll never weigh ten pounds less unless I get Ebola. I'm not going to be a great artist or an astontaut, or take some huge emotional or financial risk in the name of love or money.
Basically, I'm going to be a mommy blogger, a decent lawyer with some strengths and weaknesses, and a good friend. I hope to be a good friend and a mommy until I die, but I am not sure how much longer I will be a blogger.
This blog started as a creative therapy outlet and has brought me a lot of joys, both quantifiable and not. On the other hand, it's led to a need for external validation that is dizzying in its lows and highs, and which in the final accounting likely bodes ill for my psyche.
A metaphorical self-ghosting might be in order.
For now, I'm done reaching for the stars, and since I am preternaturally risk averse, there is no need for anyone to move over.
I am staying in my lane, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life.