I'm turning 36 in a few days. I'm struggling, I have to admit. It just seems so . . . .
. . . . so . . . .
Absolute.
As if suddenly the world is in front of me and I have to decide on a specific path to take.
. . . . and I don't want to.
Not yet.
I've never really had the chance to enjoy the journey much.
Married too young . . .
. . . . a mother too young . . . .
Growing up, I was the adult. I was the caretaker, the parent, the responsible one.
I had to learn to play.
And, yet, now, it seems as if it is expected of me to return to that mindset and be, well, boring.
And I don't want to. Because I am having more fun now than ever.
My choices are mine.
. . . not a husband's
. . . . not a mother's
. . . . no ones.
The choices I make now are mine.
But the comments are starting:
When are you getting married
. . . .isn't college a pipe dream? It's time to be an adult and find a job.
. . . . You're too old to go out. You should sit at home.
I DON'T WANT TO!!!!!!
I want to read books I have never read before. I want to travel. I want to meet people.
I want to fall in love. Make mistakes. Say I'm sorry. And do it again.
I got started at Life too late. I'm not ready to give it up yet for a dog, 4 bedrooms and a white picket fence.
I don't want a band on my finger, weighing me down in one place.
I don't want to spend my days in a corporate environment, chasing everyone else's dream.
So I won't.
I won't.
I'm not.
I won't.
I'm going to be 36. And to me that means . . . ..
I make the choices. I call the shots. I decide where I want to be.
And, honestly, I want to be right where I am.
I like the blank canvas that my life is right now.
But I like drawing on it in pencil even more.
