I sing this song every year ~ woe is me, I'm
, I haven't done this, yada yada yada. I'm singing, again. But this time, with feeling.
Before turning 40, I was depressed. It was a tough birthday, tough number to wrap my head around. All of the things I thought I would have accomplished by that age had not happened. It was tough reconciling my 18 year old thoughts and dreams and plans with my 40 year old reality. Eventually, I worked through it.
One of the things I was truly bothered by was that I had no kids. I told myself even at 40 there was plenty of time left to have kids. Nevermind that I was traveling quite a bit. Nevermind that my disposable income was going directly to Nordstrom. Nevermind that I'm a compulsive hoarder. That stuff didn't matter because I still had a chance, the window of opportunity was still open.
I'm now thisclose (if not closer) to 45...and that window is now thisclose to closing forever. I know my situation hasn't changed much ~ I still travel, I'm still a hoarder. In my head, it's completely logical. In my head, I've convinced myself I don't want children; it just wouldn't work for me. In my heart, I still hold close those 18 year-old dreams of family. I'm so sad and I can't stop it.