It Didn't Quite Turn Out That Way

I thought I’d be a lawyer, until I found out about the rigors of law school.

I thought I’d be a teacher, until I realized that others would tell me what to teach.

I thought I’d see the world with a backpack and a EurRail pass, until I married Mr. I-Like-To-Sleep-In-My-Own-Bed.

I never thought I’d have children, until I was passed over for a promotion at work and decided to try sex without birth control as a career path.

I thought I’d always live in a city, until Tiburon beckoned. Living like The Cleavers made the suburbs palatable.

I knew I’d be hiking until the day I died, until I almost died and bullets put a (temporary, I hope) end to that dream.

I’m surprised by the number of dear, long-time, friends in my life. My childhood was much lonelier than adulthood has turned out to be.

I’m surprised that I enjoy the gym.

I’m surprised that my cousins are not a bigger part of my life. They were the staples of my youth.

I play Mah Jong and get manicures and have a personal relationship with my hairdresser. I never thought I’d be one of “those” women.

I still go to sleep early and wake up with the sun. I still love to read and write and I still can’t sing a song on-key. I feel like the same girl inside, the one who worries if “they” will like her, the one who really doesn’t care if “they” do.

The trappings aren’t what I’d imagined, but the inside is still the same.