I usually only talk about what I’m wearing, or what I’m eating on this blog, but recently I’ve found myself thinking so much about a certain topic that it would feel weird not to open it up for discussion. What I’ve been fixating on, for lack of a better word, is growing up. And all my assumptions about what growing up is going to mean.
For the last couple of years, while my friends talk about their futures, getting married, having kids, where they’re going to send their kids to school, and moving out of the city I’ve sat on the sidelines, listening but hesitant to join in. What (I think) I’ve come to realize is that my nervousness is rooted in my expectations. Fearful that growing up isn’t going to turn out how I thought or hoped it was going to. That (shockingly) there may not be an Oscar for Best Screenplay, a best-selling cookbook, or a guy that looks like Matt Damon. Or worse yet, it could be boring.
The thing about acting with certain expectations in mind though, is that they could be the wrong ones. My friends don’t seem bored. They’re glowing, happy and excited. Which leads me to believe that maybe I should act, or not act, with less expectation and more faith. Belief that things will work out how they’re meant to.
Tell me, have you ever felt this way? Any advice?