Milestones, changes and growth

 A long, long time ago when I was young and rather innocent, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. Now, aged somewhere in my late-ish thirties I'm a lot less young and innocent, however starting up this blog again helped me realise something: I do still have my whole life ahead of me. Sure, about a third of that life is in the past by now. But all the rest of it, everything that's still to come, everything I can still do and see, think and share, write and learn, teach and accomplish... All of that is right here, just waiting for me to get there. Waiting for me to accomplish it and do it.

I've heard people in their twenties refer to turning thirty as 'THE BIG THREE-OH,' as if turning thirty was something akin to 'this is the beginning of the end'. I can't speak for men, however as a woman I do identify somewhat with this feeling. While Western society has changed from when I was young, I still grew up believing that the best and most ideal & amazing life anyone could ever want consisted of marriage, children, pets, a nice house, a few good friends, possibly some sort of social-good volunteer work and maybe, if there was time or it was necessary, a job. Preferably a part-time one, if that, because of course the husband's job was the important one (he would naturally be the breadwinner) and the woman's job was secondary to her first responsibility: That of being a wife, mother, cook, cleaner and housewife. Turning forty, frankly, it wasn't something I could really imagine as a child or teenager. It sounded similar to 'old enough to have grandchildren'. I'm in my late-ish thirties now and while I've got a good job, I don't 'have' any of the other things I grew up thinking were vital for a happy life. I've had relationships and I've certainly loved and been loved, however with most of those, if they had the possibility of being long-term, what I found was that we grew apart instead of growing together and becoming different people together. I've been a step-mom and have fond memories of those years, however no children of my own. I'm still not sure if I actually want children without also having a partner to do the having children with. That too, questioning whether I actually wanted to put innocent human beings onto this world, caused me quite a bit of guilt, even a bit of shame. 

While society as a whole may have changed somewhat and puts less pressure on young people to conform to certain standards, I sometimes wonder whether our ideals have, and whether our ideas about what constitutes a good and meaningful life, have. While other people often seem quite satisfied with their lives as parents, spouses, doting children to aging parents etcetera, I was taught to want that but when I truly started thinking about my goals and dreams, my hopes and aspirations, I realised that while being a wife and mom might make me happy, I also wanted more from life. I wanted to explore, to discover, to find meaning in helping others, to learn about this planet, to figure out what motivates people and well, to uncover answers to every conceivable question I might come up with. While that is the life I'm living and it makes me happy, that small voice remains. Should I have done things differently? Should I have made different choices? Wouldn't I have been happier in a more traditional setting, like as a mom or a wife? I guess I'll never know... But one thing I *do* know: These days, that little voice inside my head is questioning whether I made the right choices in my life. At least it's not telling me to feel guilty or bad for choosing a different path than what might have been expected from me.