I’m about to be 50 years old. Even typing that sentence hurts me. Not because I’m not glad to make it to this age, but because I wonder if I’ve accomplished enough. I thought I’d be married with kids by now. Not so much.
I’m single with a career I love, but no one to share it with. I’m about to move back home because I need to be closer to my mother, who’s getting older. The one man I loved moved on years ago. Thankfully, I’m not bitter.
What I guess what I want is the life I thought I’d have.
But you know what? I’m super thankful. I get to be alive in my middle age. So many people can’t say that. I’m glad I still have my mom. Lord knows that’s a blessing that so many others don’t get to have.
And if I keep living, maybe I’ll get the chance to be the woman I want to be. And no matter how I feel about getting older, I’m glad to be able to do it.
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