I recently came across the idea that most of our true living happens in the first two decades of life, and the remaining years are merely spent processing that existence. I can’t decide if this notion is profoundly depressing or oddly comforting, but I’m pretty sure it’s nonsense. What I do know is that there comes a pivotal moment—like where I find myself in my 30s—when life shifts from planning and aspiring to focusing on the present.
Perhaps life hasn’t unfolded as I once imagined. Admitting that is tough, isn’t it? I genuinely believe that the path I’ve taken—where I am today—is exactly how it was meant to be, yet it doesn’t align with the dreams I held as a child. Back then, at six years old, I was thrilled to discover in the Constitution that being a girl wouldn’t bar me from becoming president, a revelation I excitedly shared with my mom before even pulling up my pants.
Years have passed, and my own significant choices—such as marrying young and starting a family—have altered the landscape of my life in ways I didn’t foresee. The aspirations I had, inspired by my mother’s well-worn copies of Ms. magazine, have been slowly eclipsed by the relentless march of time. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never be a professional dancer, a surgeon, or a homebirth midwife.
It’s not just career aspirations; I also struggle with basic skills like gardening, and animals seem to dislike me. Despite wanting to master Mexican cooking for a decade, I still can’t move beyond melting cheese and shouting “ole.” It’s a bit sad.
Yet, I’ve ticked off the major milestones of adulthood: high school and college graduation, marriage, and motherhood. I’ve built a career I cherish and have a passion that brings me even more joy. The hard work of achieving those goals is largely behind me, and I’m (mostly) ready to embrace the work of enjoying what I have.
You’d think this phase would be the easiest, but it’s often the opposite. Who would have guessed that settling into the choices we’ve made would prove so challenging? The anticipation of the future was hard, yes, but it was the delightful kind of hard filled with hope. Now, it feels like life is simply what it is. The forward-looking mindset shifts toward introspection, revealing that despite all the joy and chaos, a sense of longing still lingers.
So, I’ll admit it: I had dreams that were bigger than this—dreams that didn’t involve being surrounded by laundry with stretch marks and a voice in my head reminiscent of my carefree childhood. I traded those dreams for something that, while undeniably rewarding, feels like a deal stacked in my favor. If given the chance, I would choose this path again in a heartbeat.
I’m not complaining, truly. But it’s frustrating that we perpetuate the myth that we can have it all. In reality, we can’t. We can have extraordinary experiences, enjoy beautiful moments, and piece together satisfying aspects of life. If you’re incredibly fortunate, like I am, you might even have a mother-in-law who is the very essence of kindness, stepping in to take care of the kids while you pursue a fulfilling career. Still, I find that I’m never entirely present—whether at work or home, I’m often split between responsibilities.
We tend to divide ourselves into fragments, hoping to sprinkle enough of ourselves across all areas of life to keep everyone—including ourselves—happy. And you know what? I believe we do manage to make it work, even if it means grieving the loss of some of those earlier dreams. Life with little ones is demanding, a tightrope walk where we must choose what we can carry and learn to accept what we can’t. Balancing it all is no easy feat.
As much as I’d love to emulate trailblazers like Gloria Steinem, I’m just a frazzled mom of four, straddling two worlds and sometimes daydreaming about how I would look in a white lab coat.
But here’s the most crucial point: we’re not done yet. In both a bittersweet and exhilarating twist, these little ones won’t stay little forever. They will evolve, and so will we. Life is full of surprises, and we should never stop dreaming. To the person who claimed we only really live for 20 years, I have plenty more living planned.
Sure, my dreams have changed. I wouldn’t want to be president now, regardless of my gender. Nowadays, my aspirations lean toward achieving enlightenment or mastering that elusive arm balance in yoga. Yesterday’s dream was simply to get out of bed; this weekend’s goal is to watch an entire movie with my husband without interruptions. Tomorrow, I might finally learn what a tamale is—or maybe I’ll save the world, depending on how much coffee I can handle.
Ultimately, perhaps what matters isn’t the specifics of our dreams, but the fact that we have them to rely on when the daily routine feels overwhelming. After all, we can’t predict where our tightropes will lead. But I’m excited to discover what lies ahead, even if I occasionally forget to pull up my pants.
If you’re looking for more about this journey, check out our other post on home insemination at intracervicalinsemination.com. If you’re ready to dive deeper into home insemination, Make a Mom is an authority on the subject. For more information on pregnancy, visit NICHD.
In summary, while we can’t have it all, we can find beauty and fulfillment in the choices we make. Life evolves, and so do our dreams—embrace the journey, and never stop dreaming.