Flying high

I’m closer to 25 than I am to 24 and let me be real, my life is not where I thought it would be. At this age, I thought I would be married  (or getting married), I thought I’d be more established in my career, I thought I would be closer to owning a house, I thought I would be better looking and would have lost more weight. I thought I would be flying high.

None of those things have happened. I’m really not where I wanted to be and it’s something I beat myself up about on a regular basis. I know that my goals are (were) high. I do. But I believe that with hard work anything is achievable. And that’s probably why I beat myself up. I feel as though I could have done better and worked harder. Social media and seeing others living their best lives really doesn’t help either.

We live in a microwave generation where we’ve gotten everything we’ve wanted in no time and when the reality of life hits us, the only reaction is frustration. It’s easier to see our misfortunes and the deficiencies of our lives than to count our blessings. I expected things to fall into place and for life to work according to my bidding. It didn’t.

I beat myself up, forgetting the many blessings I have and forgetting that those accelerating now may plateau in a couple of years, whilst I might meet my acceleration in a couple of years and never stop. I have health. I have a family that love me. I have a boyfriend I adore. I have a good job with good prospects. I have drive. I have ambition. I have intellect. I have an education. And I have a good God.




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