Thursday, November 13, 2008
It weighs heavily on my mind. Shouldn't I have my shit together by now? 30. Shouldn't my faith be stronger? 30. Shouldn't my body look better? 30. I joke that at 30 I'll be 1/3 of the way finished with my life. Shouldn't that feel like an accomplishment instead of a goal? 30.
I thought I'd find thirty, beautiful... confident... sure of who I was. Instead I find 30 searching, grasping and unsure of where to go next.