Remember when you were in high school and every teen girl broke up with her high school sweetheart so she could experience the world. She had this perfect plan in her head about attending college, meeting Mr. Right within her first year, being engaged by graduation, married after she gets settled into her first job (which will be her dream job, waiting for her immediately after her hands touch her diploma), babies at 23, and then retirement (or death from old age) at 30. Well, I will definitely admit that at 16 or 17 that was my five-year plan.
But, now, at almost 24, I haven’t achieved any of those goals. Well, I take that back, I have a new job that I don’t hate and I have my own place and a dog. But, where is this fairy stepmother that sprinkles me with that happily-ever-after? Where are my ruby slippers? Where is the white knight who kisses me awake from this mundane slumber?
Actually, for the first time in my life, I don’t give a flying fruitcake where this illusive man is. I actually came to the realization a few days ago. I don’t even want to put up with the stress of having a man in my life any time soon. I look at my friends who are at various stages of engagement, pregnancy and on-again-off-again and I can’t say that jealousy is the emotion I feel. I don’t want to have a man who I depend on or, do I dare even say, depends on me. I like being able to do what I want and not have to check in. I like being able to plan my future with only me and my little, chubby dog in mind. I don’t need someone else’s approval to achieve my dreams. Granted my uterus aches like a black-eye every time I see a toddler, but I’m only 23. I understand in small-town years that’s pretty much spinsterdom; but, I really need to get a MASSIVE grip. The fact that I can’t even get my dog to stop mauling visitors is a small inkling that I’m not really quite ready for motherhood. So, I’m going to just go with the flow and stop comparing myself to celebrities, friends, books, movies, strangers, customers, cartoons, dreams, etc. It’s time to enjoy 23 before I’m 83, in a nursing home, and wishing I didn’t wish the years away.