It's not shocking that I'm struggling with my impending birthday (now only 60 days away). I think it really comes down to expectations. My expectation on where I would be when I turned 30 are drastically different than where I am today.
My friends J and K always remind me that my life is really good, that I've accomplished so much before my 30th. Why wouldn't I sit in that and realize they are correct? I own my home, I have a job, a master's degree, fantastic friends, a dog. I've traveled to Kenya, I've found my spirit, I've embraced my personhood (to some degree). I know what makes me laugh, what makes me cry, what pisses me off...seriously, most people never find this out. So why am I not grateful?
Again, it's expectations. I expected that I would be married, with children in the home that I own. I expected to be using my master's degree and now it's a distant memory of who I use to be. I expected to be in a career, not a job. I expected to be settled. And not in the sense that this is the best it's ever going to get, but assured.
What I know to be true is that while things appear to be going well, deep down, I know they are not. I know that the man I want to be with does not want me in that capacity. I know that my fear of ending up like Bridget Jones where I have died alone in my house and I'm being eaten by dogs is very true. I know that I fear losing my job again and being forced to sell my home. That I may never get a master's degree in something I believe in. That I may never join the Peace Corps.
Truthfully, I'm living a life of fear. And it's driving me crazy.
I'm starting therapy again in February in hopes that I can resolve myself and can embrace the beautiful life I do have...until then, I question how I got here and if I can change it in 60 days.