Somewhere, between studying for finals and spilling my coffee, I realized that I was a senior in college. I have spent four years of my life trudging through lectures, papers, and finals -- so much, that all of the time that’s passed has given me whiplash. Okay, maybe I don’t literally have whip-lash, but the hard realization that dampened my Tuesday morning sent me into a fit of anxiety. I am not even positive where my future is headed. Whether it’s about the harsh reality of the impending end of my college career, or just meeting up with some friends at a coffee shop, Father Time and I have never been the best of friends. It does not matter how long the plans have been set, nine times out of 10, I will be late. 

These days, I realize that I have been present in most of my freshman, sophomore, junior, and now senior level classes, but by no means does that mean I have fully grasped that it is almost time for me to be forced to buy a regular movie ticket rather than getting the student discount, join the monotony of a nine hour work day, and going to baby showers for friends my age. This really got me thinking --with all of the time that I have cashed in, have I really used it to work towards becoming the person I set out to be? 

In exactly 28 days, I will turn 22. I have just completed my fall semester of my senior year, and by society’s terms, I am living a semi-independent life (my parents are gracious enough to pay my car insurance and cell phone bill). Let’s pretend like it is 1985 for a second, the year my parents met, when my mom was 22 years old. A graduation Christmas party was the scene of Act I of their fairytale of a love story. Within six months, they were engaged, and on April 26, 1986, they were married. They have continued to live as blissfully as happily ever afters are concerned. 

If we were to juxtapose the life that my mom was living, when she was 22, to the life that I am living today, they would be perfect opposites. A friend of mine and I, being the snarky, pretend-bitter single gals that we are, decided to keep a running total of the people at, or around our age, who had gotten engaged since the start of November. Including the addition from last night, the tally now stands at 26. 

If I am being completely honest with myself, I cannot even share my food with someone, right now, much less my life, so why do I end every day feeling like I took a wrong turn somewhere, or made a wrong decision to doom me to a singular existence for the rest of my days? The south is known for many traditions, one of them being the regularity -- and expectation -- that ladies are to wed at an early age and immediately start a family that they spend the rest of their lives selflessly providing for. I am just at a place in my life where I am still trying to come to grips with the fact that I am running out of seasons of my favorite show(s) to watch on Netflix.

Comparison is a growing problem among people my age: who is planning a wedding while you are plotting the hours you can sleep in between studying for finals, or who got an interview to the physical therapy school you were hoping to get into. It has taken a long time for me to realize that my life is not now, nor will it ever be, like anyone else’s; it has taken an even longer amount of time to be okay with it. 

When I was little, my dream occupation changed on a daily basis. One day I’d want to be a professional basketball player, and the next I’d be certain of a future in marine biology. Three and a half years of college later, and I am doing anything but the careers I once dreamt of. Our dreams evolve just like we do -- and I am so relieved that is the case. It says in 1 Corinthians 13:11, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.” I believe that passage is exactly right. Ten, or even five years ago, if someone were to come up to me and tell me that I’d be in a sorority, enjoying being in that sorority, and studying to become a physical therapist, I would question that poor soul’s sanity. But, alas, here I am a senior in college, in a sorority, enjoying my sorority, and studying to become a physical therapist. 

Time is a tricky thing. Once a moment comes and goes, it is gone forever. No amount of money can buy more time or resurrect a memory. But with all of the things that we know about time, and the frailty of it, why do we worry so much with comparing our lives to the lives of those around us? There is a quote that constantly flashes across my Pinterest feed that says, “Be yourself because everyone else is taken.” Cliché? Definitely. True? 100 percent. Find comfort in the truth that your life is going down the exact path that you are supposed to be on. Without rushing -- but without a minute to spare -- just be okay with the life that you lead because it is always right on time.