Monday, January 12, 2015

Twenty-Six.

*Disclaimer: I almost didn't post this because I thought it was TOO personal. I thought people would get the wrong impression or the wrong idea from this post. Let it be known that I am very happy and enjoying my life. These are just thoughts I've been having lately leading up to my birthday and I wanted to share them with others who may be feeling the same, and I also wanted them down somewhere so I could reflect in the future. 

I am 26.  

You know how when you're a kid and you play dress-up, or grown-ups, or whatever you chose to call it? You pretended to have a job, a husband, children, and all the money you could ever want. You know how you made names for your unborn children? (I went through many phases of names: Erica, Emma (mostly because of Rachel on Friends), Carmen, and Ryan for girls. Dylan and Oliver for boys). How you fantasized about what it'd be like to be an adult in the "real world." Ya...can I have that fantasy back? 

Now, don't get my wrong. I like my life. In fact, sometimes I love it. But in the days of being 10, 11, 12 years old, of the awkward preteen and early teenage years, where I fantasized with my friends about what life would "be like" in the future...26 was always my age. 26 was the age I'd get married. I would have found the man I was going to love for the rest of my life and we would be getting married when I turned 26. 

So, over the last few months as my birthday loomed over me, I started to get this anxious feeling inside of me. What was I doing with my life? I have been single for a LOOOONG time. There have been a few short relationships here and there. There's been flirting and dating and interest and intimacy. But nothing that's stuck. And I'm starting to wonder if it has to do with me? Do I WANT all of those things I fantasized about so long ago? I mean, I change so much in a year. Think about how much I've changed since I was 12 (let me help you...I've changed A LOT!) And I know I've become VERY VERY independent. But that doesn't mean I don't want someone to share my life with...

I have these moments of anxiety, sadness, and longing and then I look at my reality. I am 26 and have been living in Beijing for a year and half. I've got a career. I am making enough money that I can pay off my student debt, but also take long trips to exotic and wonderful places. I have friends who I can confide in, who listen to me, and who I can trust. I have a family who supports every decision I've made and always has my back. I many different forms of love surrounding me. I'm living this life that is so much more than I had imagined at 12. I'm seeing and doing things that not everyone gets the chance to do. All at 26.

So it's not the life I imagined while playing on the trampoline with my friends in my backyard after school. There's no man sitting beside me at the end of the day to share stories with. There are no kids on the way. There's no money growing on trees or a big white house and a red door to come home to. But I'm okay with that, because I have different things. I have adventure.

I fear of being alone, but I am far from it.  

2 comments:

  1. I think this is one of my favourite posts you've written. So raw and true, and I think you express yourself perfectly. Love you!

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