Do you think, as grown ups, we’re supposed to reach a point in our lives where we have it together? You know, where we’ve discovered who we are going to be and we are pursuing that with no thoughts of anything else. We are dedicated and ambitious for right things and we don’t let anyone goad us into being lesser versions of ourselves.
I feel that this is impossible for me, but I see other people on the train everyday who look purposeful. They’re sometimes dressed professionally, sometimes not, but they’ve got a look that you can tell they’ve spent time perfecting. And they aren’t concerned about themselves the way I am when I’m watching them. I’m worried if maybe I’m standing too close to someone. I wonder if they’re thinking, wow, that girl has on too much make-up, or not enough. And I will drive myself crazy wondering if and what people are wondering about me.
Last night, I got together with some folks from my church to have a discussion about a conference we all attended. I love to talk. And I think aloud, so sometimes it seems like I’m being too verbose when I’m really just trying to get my thoughts in order. Last night was no exception and I left the meeting feeling guilty…guilty that I talked way too much and interrupted people and failed to listen intently.
Why, sometimes, do I feel like I’m just no good at being a grown person? I feel like I don’t play well with others and I don’t adhere to rules of common courtesy and general understanding. What is wrong with me? And does the fact that I ask this question of myself at least 10 times a day disturb anyone else? It disturbs me. I had no idea I was so high-strung.
So, maybe I’ll never be that girl who has a scarf that matches her hat that matches her gloves and her handbag. I’ll probably always have to fumble around to unfetter myself from my headphones and I’ll probably never be dressed appropriately for the occasion. My hair will usually be a mess, I’ll have something stuck in my teeth or unsightly blemish on my forehead, and I’ll most likely slip and fall on the icy sidewalk at least once a winter season. I will undoubtedly spill something on my shirt while eating out with friends and never quite master static cling.
What I hope, though, is that I can someday truly grow up and realize that none of this really matters anyway…maybe…
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