I have been 35 for a month now.
I made it through the holidays mostly intact and without gaining any weight (no small feat to be sure).
And now… it is the start of a new year and the start of my downhill slide to 40.
And like many birthdays and New Years Days in the past, I am considering my options and goals… and this year I am finding that I don’t really like the plans I am formulating..
I don’t feel like I can make a writing goal as I didn’t meet the last several writing goals I set for myself and with my eyes being the way they are (glaucoma that ebbs and flows despite all the medication)
I don’t feel like I can even make a “read X number of books” goal for the same reason.
The nonprofit that I have poured my time and energy into is going through some changes… and while those are good and necessary, I don’t know how I fit into the organization anymore… and coupled with the frustration of not having reliable vision and eye energy to do things, I feel like maybe I should take even more steps back so that someone more qualified and with more energy can step forward.
And I have pretty much decided to stop trying to not bite my fingernails. I am 35 years old. I think I just need to let that one go. I bite my nails. It is gross and hurts my jaw… but I cannot seem to stop and you know what? I am tired of feeling guilty about failing.
Of course, there are still areas where I can set goals. Health /wellness, financial security, home projects, and of course Ella’s ongoing education and empowerment.
And while I am excited about those goals and the benefits I will reap from meeting them, it is a very odd sensation to not be including writing or reading in my long term )or short term) plans.
I feel like part of my personality has splintered off and left this huge gaping hole.
Honestly, if I think about it too much I start to freak out and want to cry and stomp my feet and throw things.
But that’s not really all that productive, is it?
And being productive… being a better steward of my time and energy… making good choices and modeling this for my daughter, these are part of my goals.
So I guess I will do something else.
I’m 35. I’m an adult.
And I don’t really know who I am anymore. So here’s to 2016 being the year I figure that out.