rising above

I’m officially in the last year of my twenties. It seems surreal to me. I don’t feel as if I’m almost 30. In fact, I’d venture to say that I feel older and I have for some time. (And this has nothing to do with the fact that I sit on the couch in my slippers and PJs at night and play Tetris on my phone. Nope, not one bit.)

It’s been a long near-decade. I thought it would get easier as time went along, but that wasn’t always the case. Speed bumps popped up often and continued for miles on end. Then, they’d disappear for a bit and return with a vengeance — just as I’d become comfortable with the smooth, open road again.

There have been some speed bumps in my life lately. Issues that have tested my ability to weather the road ahead. I’m not going to lie: these speed bumps have been wearing me down. I thought that I had built up quite a layer of thick skin over the years. It turns out that no skin is ever thick enough for battles that reach the core of your personal integrity and character.

Yet, I carry on. Partly because I have to, and partly because I do recognize that these are only speed bumps. No one is taking the road away. It’s simply become more difficult to travel.

I’m thankful that this is the final year in my twenties because it’s been a rough haul, and maybe my thirties will offer smoother travels. I’m also thankful because I can look back on my previous battles to try and gain some perspective.

Yes, what I’m going through right now is difficult and stressful. Yes, it’s unfair. But at the end of the day, I know that what I’m experiencing isn’t the end of the world.

This is not life or death. This is not malignant or benign. This is not positive or negative. This is not losing or gaining a child. This is not choosing your future. This is not choosing your child’s future. This is not watching your child suffer. It’s (for lack of a better word) bullshit, and it’s up to me to rise above it. I know that I have a roof over my head. I know that there is food in my kitchen. I know that I have an amazing, loving family to come home to each night — a family that wasn’t always this complete. A family we worked hard to bring together.

If I can achieve THAT after years of heartache and suffering, then I should be able to endure anything else that’s thrown in front of me on my path.

I know I can.


One thought on “rising above

  1. I’ll be 40 this year…crazy as I type that. My thirties were fabulous for the most part. All baby drama aside. The four years that I struggled immensely, did bring me growth that only some of us understand. I remember my thirties fondly. Take no shit kind of decade. I look forward to hearing how yours unfold…trust me…they will be great.

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