When I was a kid, I thought I’d be stable with a career, with a wife and kids by the time I was 26.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/8c3076_0181f1b3a82b4e7ca8c0ecb8d76783b4~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_900,h_900,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/8c3076_0181f1b3a82b4e7ca8c0ecb8d76783b4~mv2.jpg)
But I’m here writing this post at 27, still, no wife or children, navigating a journalism career and wiggling through law school.
Growing up, and looking at my goals then, I look at other people and how they’ve been able to achieve so much at their age, getting awards, having better careers, getting married, and having kids.
Whereas for me, I feel so stuck in a rut without any upward movement.
I don’t know what happened exactly, but this struggle of many years seems to be clearing out for me on its own without me having to do anything.
I just stopped looking at what others have achieved and looked to where I was—me, wanting to do things, and the people who were older than me, with some dreams of theirs, still waiting in the wings as well.
I've slowed down thinking on the "what ifs" of the past and enjoy the "whats" of today and the "what could bes" of tomorrow, and it feels amazing.
Not giving a fuck about what anybody says or thinks about you, or what would, is starting to finally bloom on me after 27 years.
Just stopping and just taking time to breathe has really helped me to start being at peace with my insecurities, that one by one, no matter how long, I will get to the point that these things will no longer bother me.
Realizing that I wasn’t alone in the sad feeling gave me a sense of hope—that a slow burn was okay, that I could still take my time and let the world turn.
(Inspired in part by the song “Slow Burn”, written and produced by Kacey Musgraves, Daniel Tashian, and Ian Fitchuk, and performed by Kacey Musgraves)
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