The week of my 25th birthday, I cried. Every. Day. My mother was married at a quarter of a century, and at the time I felt so far behind...At that age, my mom joined my dad in a new country which she had no idea about. They had 2 pans, a mattress, and each other. I felt that I could never be brave or motivated enough to do such a thing.
At 26 I was fresh out of a relationship, in beauty school, and had gained some definite poundage in the waist. Again I was so obsessed correlating relationships, with success and happiness. Recently everyone in the world (at least on Facebook) is getting engaged or has 42 albums full of shiny weddings. My friends and family would warn each other with texts of, "God, can you guess who ELSE found the love of their frickin life?". "Ugh that bitch doesn't deserve HAPPINESS."
I woke up at 27, and felt NEW. I felt like I have one chance to make this round worth it. I'm not that big into destiny, or optimism for that matter, but I actually have FAITH that what is MEANT to be will happen some day. If I'm meant to become a Golden Girl with my sister, who talks about her 4 labradoodles, and eats Goulash everyday, so be it. If I marry a hottie, talk about breast pumps, and buy Happy Meals cuz I'm too lazy, so be it. Now I could USE somebody (somebodaaaaayyy-someonelikeuuuuuuuuuu), but I don't have that NEED for anybody. I feel fresh as a daisy...love me or love me not! I will put myself out there this year, take risks, do right by my environment, and take risks.
I sincerely don't REMEMBER feeling calm about my situation. It's kinda fabulous.
No comments:
Post a Comment