Next week is my 28th birthday. And next week I’ll be moving myself, my bike, and a stuffed little Honda Civic across the country to Colorado.
Here I am, on the edge of a huge, gigantic, mega-enormous and exciting life change and all I keep thinking is: am I doing it wrong?
My path isn’t the path the rest of my family took: college, job, husband/wife, baby, retire, die happy. I started that direction for a bit, and then last year my life up-ended when I ruined the best damn relationship I’ve ever had. And even though the rest of my family hasn’t gone through what I’ve gone through, I compare my journey to theirs.
Last year I wrote something around this time, when things really started to fall apart—also around the time of my 27th birthday—and even though I was feeling then how I am now…I’m doing something about it.
So, I’m sharing this post again because I think it can help others who are struggling with finding their own way and comparing it to those who look like they have their shit together.
You’ll get your shit together one day, and so will I. It takes time.
Do you ever wake up and think, “OMG, I am 27 and at this age my sister was already happily married with a house and a mortgage and a real front yard,” or “OMG at this age my mom had already ridden her bike across the country, got married, had a baby, and was also responsible for landscape upkeep?”
Great. Me neither.
But if or when you do wake up and realize the women in your life started writing new chapters much sooner than you did or will, don’t panic. Do not panic, girl.
You’re fine. It’s fine. Life isn’t falling apart, it’s just that maybe it hasn’t fallen together quite yet. And I’m learning there’s a big difference. The words and thoughts are out there, they just need time to fit together. Especially if the marriage chapters and the baby chapters and eco-friendly mulch chapters are ones you want to write one day.
As a copywriter by trade (and paycheck) I liken it to writing a rough draft over and over. I don’t think we’re supposed to get it all right on the first go round, and those women before you didn’t either.
My sister, the one with the great marriage and the perfectly wiggly, rosy-cheeked baby, wrote a couple rough drafts before she hit publish. I was there for those, and I’m sure she would agree they were good practice.
Right now at 27, my book is mostly blank and the spine is barely cracked, but I, the writer, I’m not quite ready to pick up the pencil yet. And it’s OK because that’s the most important part.
So the next time you see engagement announcement or ultrasound photo or a couple holding a SOLD sign on a perfectly manicured front lawn in front of a brand new house on social media, jam on that like button. Sure, they started writing a little sooner, but your pencil is there when you’re ready.
Push on, PUSH ANIMALS >>>