forever young

 

You want to know the truth about me?

Well here it is.

I feel young. All the time. I feel like this young person, trying to be a 23 year old woman. Trying to be good at having a career, and being a wife, and having friends, and being a good sister and daughter. But I'm just little. I'm still so little. I have so little behind me, and so much ahead of me, and the strangest part is that the little that I have is actually quite big. But it feels young. It feels young like me.

I'm constantly thinking of new ways to grow up. I'll wear red lipstick, I'll get an eyebrow pencil. Maybe I'll wear heels on a normal every day! I'll remember gas in the car. I'll keep the house clean. I'll attempt to be crafty. I'll get on pinterest and think about what I might do to my house. What I might do when Alex is graduated, what I might do when we have more money, what I might do if we had a washer and dryer and a dishwasher.

That's the problem I think.

I keep picturing my grown up self in my grown up life. I haven't decorated for Halloween. I haven't! I know. My house looks exactly the same. I look up cute things on pinterest, and I even went to a craft store, but I was lost. I was a baby there. A little girl trying to be a woman who is crafty and artsy and an inspiration to all who walk through her door. I listened to grown up women talk to each other about how "this is so cute, don't you think it will be a great centerpiece?" and "I thought about getting this one, but it was much too expensive!" And I told myself, not yet. I don't have a house of my own. I have this little tiny rented place that is for sure the cutest, and for sure the most charming. But It's not MINE. I don't own it. What's the point of trying so hard for something that isn't mine?

Someday when I have a house I will. Someday when I have a house I'll be grown up and I'll wear heels and red lipstick and awe everyone with my craftiness and surprise everyone with my hospitality, and love my husband so good, and keep the house clean, and spend less time on the computer and all. that. jazz.

Do I have to wait for someday? Couldn't I start right now?

This 23 year old little girl trying to be a woman with all her ducks in a row honestly? Doesn't know.

p.s. I tried to tell my mom and sister stories of my life this past weekend and they rolled their eyes heavenward and said, "we KNOW. we read your blog." 

which actually, was kind of annoying.