Dating : Stop Waiting; Live a Full Life Now.

I was 23, power walking in circles with my friend, 34, around the corporate parking lot during our ten minute break. Trying not to sweat off our makeup but picking up the pace anyway, I heatedly explained why I had to marry my significant other in the next couple months, less than a year in. I wanted a summer wedding and waiting until next year meant I’d be 25 when I got married and the concept of that was shameful, too shameful for me to consider. Not because we, or I, was ready for that kind of commitment, but because of my aging self.

It pains me now to remember how ridiculous that was, how un-self-aware I was about 1. womanhood, 2. discussing my judgement for the unmarried to my older, unmarried friend, and finally 3. my problematic internalization of societal expectations.

Three years earlier, I was 20 and working as a full time nanny. I loved those children so deeply I honestly, confidently felt having children and loving them well was the most important thing I needed to do in my life. I was glad I quit journalism to only do English. If I had a career writing from home, it wouldn’t disrupt my ability to be a stay at home mom.

To go back even further, senior year of high school, when trying to decide on a career path, I wrote down both president’s wife and pastor’s wife, kindergarten teacher, and fashion designer, along with many other very gendered options.

None of these options are bad options. They are beautiful, satisfying, loving options many women choose. (I guess not many women are first lady as a vocation.)

My hobbies are/were cooking, writing, and working with kids. Yes, I was a baby feminist and even cared deeply about politics, but I hadn’t given myself options outside of *women’s work* and so called *women’s worth*.

Growing up I fantasized about my future life, but outside of writing and having kids, I saw nothing else.

I mean, there was always a man, obviously. That was central to this dream.

My future life made sense. I’d be married by 25 and writing deep wonderful novels and baking perfect scones and kati rolls so east can meet west and raising three kids with names that were christian, Indian, and also easy to pronounce.

Except today I am a grown up.

I am not that grown up.

And I can’t see my future at all.

Whatever track I’m actually on is so far removed from where I thought I’d be.

I am a single 28 year old with a dog and a cute apartment and a career in software consulting.

I’m convinced the institute of marriage is a sham and real love is a daily choice, not some deeply magical earth shattering experience. I’m convinced I’ve felt more wild, deep love than many married friends. I’m convinced I might end up being the breadwinner, not the stay at home mom. I’m convinced I have emotional issues I need to work through and adjust before I am ready to accept and give truly healthy love to a partner or kids. I’m working on that.

The point is this. All that stuff I thought would’ve happened by now never did.

I could see that and be sad.

Or I can be relieved.

Relieved that I learned that life is meant to be enjoyed beyond supporting those I love. It’s meant for me too.

Relieved that I can turn that support inward and give myself a safe, happy home.

Relieved that I am finding out who I am before starting a family.

Relieved that I had the space to fuck up enough to know that I need to work on myself a good bit before bringing more humans into my mess.

Relieved that I see power in myself. I don’t have to marry someone in power. I mean I’ll do that too, maybe. But I have access to that on my own.

Relieved that I can prepare the foods I dreamt of perfecting, write about the cultural issues I want to, and not give up my agency in the process.

Relieved that when I meet someone worth spending my life with, I’m not incentivized by his money or stability to be with him. I will be my own person, experience under my belt, self worth in check, living my best life. I will have the tools to know if he’s a good one or not. I will recognize my old patterns that didn’t work and rewrite my future accordingly. I will be ready to give the kind of love someone of value deserves. And maybe we’ll both be so bad ass that at some point I stop working entirely to pursue a passion project. Maybe he does. Wow. Can you imagine how powerful it is to be able to give someone else that freedom? Maybe I want to be able to do that for someone I love. Maybe they want to give that to me, because they want to, because they know what I’m capable of, not because they are obligated.