"How long will I wander before I really know"

‘Future’ used to be my middle name. My life was planned out from high school until parenthood. I knew where I would go to college, where I wanted to begin my career, the flowers I wanted at my wedding, how many kids I’d have, and whom I’d marry. I remember thinking that the future seemed better than the present – it was exciting, new, and mysterious. The mere fact that it was unknown allowed me to make it exactly what I wanted. Anything that seemed to alter my plans as life progressed threw me into a whirlwind – typically accompanied by anxiety. How can I do ‘x’ if ‘y’ didn’t come through? What next? I despised those times of uncertainty.

It seemed that a self-starting attitude and a goal oriented mindset made the most sense for a kid like myself. We have a lot of dreams – and we are fairly consumed by meeting each and every one – all by ourselves.

I have found myself today in a place that I never dreamed I would be. Is that good, bad? I have decided it’s neither. It just is what is. I have grieved the loss of a handful of old and worn out dreams in the recent past – I was ready to do it, actually. It’s in those difficult moments, where composure is lost, that remind me that I am different than before. I find comfort in the sheer acknowledgment of struggle and weakness. I need to be reminded that with my futuristic, perfectionism of a self came with it an attitude that promoted a lack of attachment, emotion, and vulnerability – things which seem to be primary needs for any kind of true relationship.

I still make plans, but I don’t keep track of them in 3, sometimes 4 different places. I still have dreams, but they rest in an open hand.

I go to sleep every night uncertain of the day that is to come. The old Whitney would choose to live elsewhere. She would involve herself in the things that seemed to be reliable. It would be safe, very safe, but also very lonely.

As scary as my reality seems some mornings, it is where I live. I am grateful to be here, content to be me, thankful to be introspective, and thankful for my newfound ability to shed tears over the things that sadden me.


As far as life goes, I take the risk every day. As tough as it gets, it still proves itself to be worth it.