Here comes the new year, a new dawn, a new day. Even accounting for some wiggle room I think we can say that, somewhat inconveniently, the world didn’t end.
Since we’re all still here, it’s that time of year again where we consistently lie to ourselves about what we’re going to be doing in the coming twelve months. We all have dreams, hopes, secret wishes, and now is the time when the majority of us allow ourselves to entertain for a moment the glorious possibility of the perfect future for ourselves and our families.
In a perfect world, I want a number of things. I’m almost thirty and I have no career. For someone like me who spent their childhood being a chronic over achiever, that stings a lot. Through various life events, some of which were my own fault, others over which I had no control, I’ve found myself here. It’s not so much that I need a career for validation or a reason to exist, but I would like to feel I’m accomplishing something, and right now I don’t.
Two pregnancies have left me with a body I hardly recognise as my own. I’ll never look the way I did in 2001 again, I know that, but I still want to be healthy and a decent weight again. Getting rid of this muffin top which almost kissed my knees would be lovely too!
Being raised by a single father (who did a great job BTW) means that while I know quite a bit about guns and politics, I’m woeful at the simple (or more accurately ridiculously complicated) skills required to be a ‘girl’. I have little to know idea how to use my make-up (what little I have) and have no skin-care regimen other than ‘wash it occasionally’. I can’t dress myself in a flattering style to save my life, which never really bothered me before but now, as a grown woman with two infant daughters I can’t help feeling I’m missing out.
On the other hand, reading back over this, I just realised that in effect, what I’m looking for is to be pretty and successful… A wish I’ve always found amusing in the past. 28 is a little early for a mid-life crisis, isn’t it?