Most of these words came to me last week in a flurry. I sat down with my journal, and they poured out of me onto the page. I don’t usually write long form in my journal – it’s more for the day-to-day happenings, or maybe a note I hope to flesh out later. When the words come easily, I pay attention. Maybe these words are for you. Maybe they’re for me.
I have often felt late to my life.
It probably doesn’t help that I spent my high school years repeating the mantra, “if you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re in trouble.” Thanks, marching band. Certainly a good lesson for my professional life, but it was hard not to internalize it.
Comparison is the Thief of Joy
I was 17 before I got my first kiss. It was in the back of a movie theatre on a blind date, and it sent me into quite the existential tizzy. (“But what kind of girl does that make me?”).
After college, when everyone else seemed to have found their career, I was still working low wage retail jobs. Even jobs I enjoyed – like working with the county Parks and Rec division, or after school with a local church – really had no long term upward mobility. I didn’t really want to stay in my hometown, but I couldn’t find a way to move either. I applied for jobs out of state with no response.
Unlike so many people I knew growing up, I didn’t meet my husband in high school or college. It was a full 10 years after graduating from high school that we found each other.
Unlike my mother, who birthed her children at age 31 and 34, I didn’t have my first until I was 35. My second came when I was 37. I will be in my 40s when my oldest child starts kindergarten.
I spent a lot of time comparing myself to others. Let’s be real, it’s hard not to. Other people are a natural mirror to ourselves. In the moment, I felt behind. And not just a little behind – miles away. Even now, as I look back, I can see where I was later in so many social “milestones” than my peers.
You’re Not Falling Behind or Running Late
But it’s also in looking back that I see maybe I was right where I was supposed to be.
Try as I might to tie the knot before the ripe old age of 29, it never worked out. Looking back, it’s apparent I wasn’t ready. For whatever reason, in my mind, the best age to be married was between 25 and 27. Obviously not because I’d met “the one.” That just seemed like a good age.
So I made a mental note and thought for sure that would be how it all worked out. I dated different people and did my part to check that looming deadline off my list.
But at 27, I was living in what’s been dubbed not so affectionately, the “dark scary apartment”. An old house converted into four apartments, with heat I couldn’t control and 12-foot ceilings. It was lovely and also not so lovely. I learned to cook in a kitchen so small that even my fridge couldn’t fit.
If I had gotten married at 27, I probably never would have lived in the dark, scary apartment. Certainly not for as long as I did (which really wasn’t all that long). I did so much growing there. I discovered a lot about who I was and the things in life that mattered to me.
After we married, my husband moved me out of my hometown. First, just a few states away, and then across the world. It was a hard transition because my roots in VA run deep. I wanted to move for so long. Now that I had, it was harder than I expected. I can’t imagine what might have happened if I had moved away earlier, before I had age on my side. Maybe it would have been easier. But maybe not.
Generally speaking, I’m not a chill mom. Old habits die hard, and I’ve been a type A, anxious rule follower for my whole life. But I’m a much more chill mom now, at 38, than I might have been had our first pregnancy stuck, and I had my first child at 33.
You’re Right On Time
All this to say, wherever you are is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
When we’re in it, running the race of life, it’s easy to compare ourselves to the people we know running next to us. We see them sprinting ahead, finishing before us, while we’re still trudging along and breathing heavily.
But after the race, when we look back at our time, we see a personal best. A new record. Looking back, we are doing better than we thought.
There is no right way to walk through life. We all have our own paths to forge. So here’s your reminder: you’re doing better than you might think. You are right where you need to be, even if you can’t see it now.
Sometimes it takes time to see the path we’re walking. It’s only in looking back that we can see how far we’ve come.
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