I came across a thought-provoking statement recently: most of our true living occurs in the first 20 years of life, with the subsequent years spent merely processing that existence. I can’t quite decide if this is the most disheartening thing I’ve ever heard or a huge relief, but I’m leaning towards the idea that it’s a load of nonsense. What I do know is that there’s a very real turning point in your 30s where life shifts from dreaming and planning to simply being present.
It’s a bit tough to admit, but sometimes life doesn’t unfold the way we hoped. I genuinely believe that things have turned out as they were meant to, yet that doesn’t mean they align with the grand visions I held as a child. I still remember the day my mom handed me a copy of the Constitution, and I read it on the toilet, bubbling with excitement at the thought that nowhere in that document did it state I couldn’t be president just because I was a girl. I dashed out to tell her, pants forgotten around my ankles.
Fast forward a few decades, and those dreams have morphed into something quite different. Choices I’ve made—like marrying young and having a family—have reshaped my path in ways I never anticipated. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t be a professional dancer or a surgeon, and the dream of becoming a midwife has slipped away like sand through my fingers.
And let’s not even get started on my cooking skills; I’ve wanted to master Mexican cuisine for years, and my culinary prowess still peaks at melting cheese and shouting “ole!” It’s a bit sad, honestly.
But I’ve checked off major life milestones: graduating high school and college, welcoming my children into the world, marrying my partner, and buying a home. I even have a career I adore and a hobby that brings me even more joy. The hustle of striving is mostly behind me, and now it’s time to focus on enjoying what I’ve built.
You’d think this would be the easiest phase of life, but surprisingly, it’s not. Who would have guessed that the stage where we can settle into our choices and stop fretting about the next big leap would be the hardest? All that anticipation felt like a grand adventure, but now it’s just…well, it is what it is. Perhaps the focus shifts from looking ahead to introspection, revealing that despite all the joy and chaos, there’s still a yearning lingering beneath the surface.
So, let’s be real for a moment. There were dreams that felt bigger than this. Bigger than sorting laundry with a sagging belly and a face that’s starting to show signs of age. That little girl who dashed through the house, Constitution in hand, is still a part of me. While I might have traded some ambitions, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat because the rewards have been immense.
I’m not complaining. I promise. I just find it unfair that we perpetuate the myth of having it all. The truth is, we can’t. We can have beautiful, fulfilling experiences, but no one gets everything. If you’re lucky like I am, you might have a supportive mother-in-law who embodies grace, helping you juggle your career while still being present for your kids. Yet, even then, a piece of me is always split between work and home, never fully present in either place.
We tend to fragment ourselves into tiny pieces, hoping to sprinkle enough of ourselves across our lives to keep everything afloat. And you know what? I think we manage to do just that. It’s perfectly fine to mourn some of those lost dreams. Life with little ones can feel like a tightrope walk, where we choose what we can handle and attempt to accept what we can’t. It’s challenging, often unglamorous work.
I may not be Gloria Steinem, smashing through barriers, but I’m a weary mom of four, straddling the line between my dreams and reality. Yet, there’s one crucial thing to remember: we’re not finished. Our little ones won’t stay little forever. They’ll grow, and so will we. Life is unpredictable and full of surprises, and we should never stop dreaming.
Sure, my dreams have shifted. I wouldn’t want to be president—not that I could with all my responsibilities. Now, I’m more focused on achieving enlightenment or finally mastering that arm balance in yoga. Just yesterday, my goal was simply to get out of bed, and this weekend, I just want to enjoy a movie with my husband without interruptions. Tomorrow could hold anything: perhaps I’ll learn what a tamale is, or maybe I’ll save the world, depending on my coffee intake.
Ultimately, it seems the significance of our dreams isn’t as crucial as the fact that we have them at all. They serve as our lifeline when daily life feels overwhelming. None of us can foresee where our paths will lead, but I’m excited to discover what’s in store, even if it means forgetting to pull up my pants sometimes.
Summary
The author reflects on the dreams and realities of adulthood, noting that while life may not unfold as we envisioned, it can still be fulfilling. The transition from childhood aspirations to adult responsibilities often leads to a reevaluation of what it means to “have it all.” Despite the challenges, there’s a sense of hope and excitement for the future, emphasizing the importance of maintaining dreams, no matter how they evolve over time.