I'll be the first to admit that I'm your stereotypical dog-passes-by-and-I-point-and-smile kind of person. Rather than being a 25-year-old obsessed with having babies, I'm obsessed with dogs. I love my own dog more than the day is long and baby her on a level that I may possibly never baby another living creature. She's my Gracie-girl, my Bear-dog, my fluffy-butt and my most loyal companion.
I was thinking about that the other day and what does that say about where I am in my life? I cringed a little, I'll admit. I suddenly wondered if I should be somewhere different, if I'd taken a wrong path or gotten off-course completely. For example, let's take a look at my mother and what she'd done at my age.
At 24, my mom (and my dad) had bought their first home, were both in their chosen career-fields, and had had me. (Insert dumbfounded silence here) I'm currently a year older than that and am in a rented apartment, in a career-field that I have no desire in which to remain, and have no desire for children anytime soon.
A fierce sort of panic bloomed in my chest as I kept thinking about it. It was like my mind kept opening browser tabs, abandoning them and then opening more before completing the task on the first ones. I was convinced that I was so far behind everyone else my age and that I should be ashamed of where I am. I should work harder. I should figure out what's happening to me.
The back of my eyes began to sting, the threat of tears beginning to surface, but I reached out, saying something along the lines of, "Ok, Lord, you know I tend to freak out about teeny-tiny things, help me calm down and see this logically."
It took a couple of seconds, but I felt a calming effect come over me. My mind slowed to a crawl and I realized something, something important.
I'm happy.
I'm happy and I know it. Clap my hands.
I could go the easy route and say, "Well, mom and dad had it easier than my husband and I do now. You could buy a home for $65,000, you could find a descent job and you could support a family on $800 a month." But that wouldn't be fair. They worked hard to be where they were and they instilled a fierceness in me that I can't describe.
I've worked hard to be where I'm at and my journey isn't over. It's just beginning. Whereas my parents had been married for 7 years by 25, I've only been married 3. I'm still learning my husband and we're still learning about our life together. Our world is fierce and competitive and we're taking our time to analyze it and decide our best course of action.
It wouldn't make sense for us to have a house, be in the fields we're currently in for the rest of our lives and to have children. Why? We're not there. That's okay with me. I want happiness and fulfillment and that is what I have. I have what I want, right here, right now.
Don't get me wrong, I have ambitions and I'm working towards them. I'm pursuing my passions and building stronger foundations for myself and my husband every single day. I want to be a writer or an editor someday and, look at that, you're reading what I'm writing right now. I'd call that a small step in the right direction.
I can't be where my parents were at my age because I'm not them, I'm me. I used to feel guilty for not wanting children but now I realize that I just don't want them right now. My husband and I aren't there.
But we're happy.
For all I know, I might be the 30-year-old that sees-a-dog-and-points-and-smiles before I'm ready for children, a house, etc. However, I'm alright with that. So long as I keep my goals solidly before my and my support system solidly behind me.
We cannot be our parents because we are not supposed to be. We are meant to be ourselves.