The Great Expectations

I had grand ideas for 25 was supposed to hold. It felt like a pivotal year when I thought about growing up. I suppose we each have the years that we place some sort of arbitrary value or weight on. For me it was 16, 21 and then 25. 

I honestly hardly remember turning 16 or what my expectations were about that year of my life. I do know I was awkward, painfully shy, and brainwashed by a bunch of Disney movies that had me thinking that I new Jeep, parties, and a magical romance was in my immediate future. 

anyone? anyone else remember this?

Lucky me, I never got mistaken for a famous pop princess, or had my best friend confess undying love. Alas.

Expectations for 21 were pretty shallow and predictable. By the standards of what I expected and what occurred-- pretty spot on. A fantastic display if expectations and reality that year. Granted, when you are in college, living with your sorority sisters, and just about to finish your final ten weeks of college- life is pretty stinkin' great. Luckily, that "mind eraser" beverage I down around 1:30am on my birthday was temporary in nature. Ha!

Twenty Five was the year of the "adult". With high hopes, and a head filled with anticipation and expectation, it was easy to see how what I had thought, and what was real- were way way way off. I didn't have a nice wardrobe, or piles of heels. No tiny humans, no house, no new car, and I certainly didn't read the paper with any regularity! 

After I grieved, mourned, accepted, and moved on, 26 and 27 flew by with little thought, little expectation and no comparison to what I thought, and what was real. 

Now I am 39 days out from facing 28 head on, and with a level of confidence that is foreign to me- I can say I am having a mini-freak out. Talk about expectation and anticipation! 

I mean, surely I was supposed to have the "4 D's" checked off at this point?!? Wrong. As of right now, I have a dishwasher, that's it. No Dog, no Dryer, and certainly no Diamond. Not to get all serious and emotional, but holy lord does that freak me out. I'm leaning on my crutch of humor right now to joke about my wrinkles, quickly dwindling egg count, and being in a nursing home when my kids go to college. Which is all just a very clever way to cover up the fact that I am feeling like I may just be one of those people who doesn't get married, or have kids and starts dressing her dogs like children so she can buy cute clothes. It's a tad bit terrifying (and a dash of mortifying as well). It is all in my head- thank goodness, making it easy to remind myself that everyone build up expectations and time lines for themselves and I am not the first, nor last to have to throw my timeline completely out the window and remember that I am ok, and that what comes, is what is right.

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With 39 days left on the clock, I am trying to remember it is normal to let go of expectation and accept your own personal truth. I may need a few bottles of wine and my humor crutch to get through it, but once on the other side, I am sure it will all be just fine.