Who I Wanted To Be

Seven year old me had plans. Seven year old me thought I would go to college for years and become a dentist. Seven year old me thought I would fall in love and get married by 24. Have babies at 25. Buy a house, have 2 dogs, and live the life I dreamed of. Seven year old me really had it figured out. 

I’m 25 now. I have a degree, but I’m no dentist. I’m not married, I have no children, I don’t own a home. I’m not living the life I always dreamed of. But I’m living a life I’m proud of. 

I rent and have two kitties, no dogs. I’m learning what it’s like to navigate a broken heart. I constantly have to balance work and the military while trying to give my all to both of them. My family is an ever-changing story line and I have to keep turning the page to keep up. 

I am finally confident in who I am. While this isn’t the life I dreamed of, it’s a life I’m proud of. I’m proud of the strides I’ve made to face my anxiety. I’m proud of the growth I’ve seen in my job that I felt (and sometimes still feel) wildly unqualified for. I’m proud of the balance I have to keep up with work, the gym, my family, my friends, the military, my mental health, my pets, my home, my peace. I’m proud of the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve, even if it burns me. 

Who I am today is not who I thought I wanted to be. Who I wanted to be took a different path a long time ago, and I hope she’s happy, too.