A Momentary Unraveling
No one ever really warns you how difficult life can be.
We grow up believing there’s a set of milestones we’re all supposed to reach: find a partner, get married, have kids, live happily ever after. It’s the story we’re handed, the one we see everywhere from Hallmark movies to family photo albums. But what no one tells you is how to navigate life when that’s not your path.
No one explains what to do with the “what ifs.”
What if those things aren’t in the cards for me?
What if they’re not even what I truly want?
And if that’s the case… is it okay?
Letting go of the FOMO isn’t easy. Even when you know the truth, that most relationships don’t last, that parenting can be grueling and lonely, that “perfect families” are usually far from it… the longing can still creep in.
In my twenties, I didn’t think much about any of this. Time felt endless. Pressure was minimal. But as I inch closer to life’s “body clock deadlines” and watch people around me follow more traditional paths, the questions start to hum louder.
In my gut, I believe that path isn’t for me. Life has made that pretty clear through the waves I’ve had to ride. And yet, I still wonder… have I embraced this child-free life because it’s genuinely who I am? Or have I adapted to it because I don’t believe the possibility will ever be there?
I know in my soul I would be a great mother. But I also know how much life has already taken from me without my consent. I’m not sure how much of myself I could give without resentment creeping in. Parenthood is an all-in commitment, and while I imagine I could find pockets of joy, I can’t ignore the reality that I will always be wondering about the other side of the coin.
Maybe this questioning is rooted in my history. I’ve had very few permanent figures in my life. No close family unit. Friends who come and go. And, as many of you know, I lost the person I thought would be my life partner. While I’ve been blessed with new love and new family, that gut feeling that nothing lasts still lingers. When it feels like impermanence is all you’ve known, rewiring your thoughts toward stability feels like a daunting uphill climb.
Sometimes, I get tired of the climb altogether. Envy slips in, and I hate how bitter and resentful I can feel. It seems like it’s never my time, never my turn. But maybe that’s the trap, wanting the stars without remembering you have to train to be an astronaut first. You can’t forget about the failed missions, even if all you see from the outside are the success stories.
I know these feelings are part of grief. The noise getting louder with significant dates and memories that have a way of stirring up deep reflection and unease. The discomfort eventually softens, but I always hope it serves a purpose… that something will grow from it.
My mind works like a tangled crochet pattern I keep trying to unravel back into a neat little ball. But that’s not how life works, is it? Maybe the goal isn’t to fight the current or demand a perfect shape, but to let the journey carry me, even when it’s uncertain.
So for now, the pondering continues. And I’ll keep trying to make peace with the “what ifs,” trusting that the messy middle is where most of life’s beautiful parts really happen.
