And milestones warp their meaning.
Today I turned 32 and I never expected to make it this far.
Recently, a couple close friends and I were talking about "life milestones." We were sitting across from each other in a triangle in their living room. As soon as the topic popped up, I knew I had a decision to make: be honest, or deflect. For years I chose the latter, but this time I decided to go with the former.
The line of questioning bopped from "how'd you picture your career" to "what'd you want to be when you grew up," and then over to "how did you choose which college you went to" and "wait, did we all feel super pressured to go to college in the first place??"
From my seat on the end of the couch, I kept my eyes on my friend while she explained her answers, but fidgeted mercilessly with my hands in my lap. When the invisible sharing stick made its way over to me, I inhaled slowly and prepared to let the honesty out.
More calmly than expected, I explained that my upbringing was spent predominantly in fight-or-flight mode. Moving past the details, I stated quite plainly that all of that had led to an arduous game of tug-of-war with my mental health as a teen. Before continuing, I braced myself in what I hoped was a subtle way. I uncrossed my leg from its perch on my knee and swapped it for the other one. Eyes flitting back-n-forth between my two friends, I told them how that chapter of my journey ultimately led to a suicidal crisis.
And, with all of that in mind, I explained how I never pictured what my adult life would look like—no ideal career, house, hobbies, hopes, dreams, or schemes. I didn't think I'd be here for it.
My friends didn't recoil. Their eyes were a bit wider than usual, sure. But they already knew the raw truth of what I shared. Granted, this framing was a bit different than I'd ever really gone into with them. And I know how jarring it sounds—I get it. That's why I never talk about it. But, to me it doesn't feel harsh, or triggering, or upsetting. It just feels... matter of fact. It sort of feels like a clean-slate, and I see a lot of hope in that from where I'm sitting.
So, what did I want to be when I grow up?
Happy.
And every year I find myself more and more grateful for my clean slate.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
224/365
If you could imagine it from scratch, how would you draw-up the life ahead of you?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.
See the latest.
Subscribe to specific columns to receive new posts directly in your inbox.