When I was 15, I thought I’d be married by 27.
I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but I assumed I’d be stable, married (or at least engaged), with a fulfilling job I could do for the rest of my life. No kids yet, because the thought of having a child scares me and I can’t imagine taking care of my own at this age. (Even at 15, I knew I didn’t want to have them at 27).
Reality: At 27, I’m a grad student, living in a shared apartment with three people I met on Craigslist, and spending Saturday night at the J-School because it’s too snowy to head back home. But somehow things feel right, and I’m in the right place at the right time. I’m glad that I didn’t get to choose the direction of my life as a teen, because I’d have missed out on a lot of heartbreaking, but necessary, experiences.
Sometimes I wonder about the choices I made; should I have stayed in a particular relationship? Should I have gone to grad school in Europe? Should I have just stayed home, stuck it out, and gotten promoted to a higher position? I don’t know, but I no longer spend angsty hours stressing about the direction of my life because I know that somehow, I’ll be fine (at least I hope I will).
I’m not giving up this blog anytime soon, but I feel that I’m nearing the end of my quarter-life crisis, and “twenteensomething” no longer seems to fit the bill entirely. Even the design isn’t me anymore (except as a broke grad student, I’m not shelling out for a web designer, and I don’t have the necessary CSS skills to overhaul it just yet). Nonetheless, I feel drawn to blogging again, primarily because I’ve been going through so many things here in New York, and I want to record and share them somehow. So the blog will live until next year at least, but probably not for much longer.
And I’m glad I’m not yet married.