I wanted to weigh less than 150 lbs (because that's what I weighed in high school and was told I was a cow), to play a musical instrument well (instead of having played 3 so far and none of them well), to be married (hahahaha), and to have children (which is a near impossibility for me given my PCOS and poor management not to mention a complete lack of man in my life). I wanted so many things by the time I reached this point. I had hoped I'd have more than my Associates in Arts and that I'd be pursuing a career I loved.
I am not going to be that woman. Not by my 30th birthday 5 months from now, possibly not ever.
The reality is, I don't know who I'm going to be by 30. Hopefully I'll have officially decided on whether or not I'm going to go back to school at all. If not, I've got to find a new career path and make it work. I'd also like to have actually seen a doctor about my PCOS and have a better plan of attack so that I don't feel do hopeless and overwhelmed.
Yes, I'd cheerfully accept the presence of a grown man who actually wants to love me, but I'm going to try to be happy even if he hasn't shown up by my birthday. He'll be worth the wait whenever he decides to show up.
By 30, I'd like to be closer to truly accepting and loving the woman I already am, and instead of expecting to magically become someone else, I'd like to just keep growing.
Maybe I'm not anyone else's ideal, but I'd like to be mine.