Friday marks my last birthday in my twenties. I wasn’t even thinking about it until my mom just asked me if I was doing okay. Cameron asks me all the time, and I think I just autopilot to yes. I don’t know if I am. I haven’t done an actual mental check in quite some time. I feel.. like.. stunted, I guess? My sister is having a child soon, and my brother is getting married. Me? I’m just now reaching one year with Cameron, which is great and everything.. but.. I’m almost thirty. I.. I thought that maybe I would have accomplished more. I make less thank 50k a year, I have a tiny home that is still in disrepair and has a garage full of shit, and no children, no husband.
Now, to be fair.. I have a home. I have a cat, and a dog. I have friends. A beautiful boyfriend. Family that supports me, even though we argue. I just.. “no big deal.. I want more.” Which, I know, super greedy. Children are being taken away from their families at the border, and I’m here whining about entering my final year in my twenties.
My students joke about me being forty five, which.. is like.. funny.. but I think that it is maybe subconsciously impacting me. Life is so short. I’m low-key / high-key worried that because I waited so long to have kids that they won’t get to have the awesome relationship with my parents that I had hoped. Adoption can take forever.
Sigh. Here’s hoping that I can make it a memorable year, and that life looks favorably upon me.
Thoughts and prayers for Paul C’s mother.