37 Years & My Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

I always had this image of what my life would look like when I got older, as I imagine most of us do when we’re growing up. The life I envisioned, what I had hoped it would be and couldn’t wait to experience; It wasn’t a dream too big. It wasn’t at all unrealistic. I wanted the house with the big open backyard, BBQs with neighbors and friends, nights next to a fire under the stars, game nights. I wanted movie nights and popcorn, walks through the trees. Season tickets to our favorite local team. I wanted to be well into sharing my life and experiences with someone else by my side. Someone to do life with. I didn’t necessarily have a dream of marriage… the big white dress or a wedding, though it would have been nice when I thought about it. Kids were a toss up, but I always saw myself at least having the option to decide whether or not children would be added to our life.

Here I am, steadily heading down the road 37, and I come to terms with the fact that the reality of those dreams have all but washed away. I have none of what I had envisioned, and the scary thing is… it’s all my fault. I cried in middle school. I cried in high school. I cry now as I write this. I cried because I knew back then that all of those things that I had dreamed, weren’t going to be meant for me. I could literally feel it in my soul at that time. Have you ever heard of PostSecret? If not, look it up. I learned of it at a museum I visited… and this was my PostSecret: I fear that those tears I cried growing up, and the unsettling feeling of “knowing” that plagued me, were the moments I spoke into existence that I would never be gifted those things in life; My self-fulfilling prophecy.

As I approach 37, I have no idea what’s next. I don’t know what the revised version of that dream will be. At this time, I’m unable to even envision the options. All I know is that I now have to pick up a blank canvas, because all the dreams I had for me… My time has passed. That clock expired.

When I take an honest look back over the last 20 years, I’m truly not sure where I went wrong. I can’t figure out which moment was that defining point that put the nail in the coffin on those dreams. Perhaps I’ve built my confidence on a foundation of lies and failed to notice that foundation cracking and crumbling beneath me. Perhaps it was bold faced denial. Sometimes we tell ourselves a lie so frequently, that we can no longer decipher it from the truth. Perhaps that is the lens I look through when reflecting on the past… unable to change the view from my perceived truths to the reality.

Welcome to my midlife crisis, titled “New Beginnings”.

I don’t know what’s next, or even where to start, but I know I have to change.

2019 in a Nutshell

Short and sweet… I started this blog out of pure entertainment, and shortly after I started dating. Long story short I learned that people in their 40s are liars just as much (if not more) than people in their 20s. Women are shady as shit… Men are dicks, all regardless of age.

That’s the short version… No need to bore you with the long. It ended with a 10 year relationship down the drain and a fake ass friendship that I was fortunate to have brought to light early enough on. Now here we are 3 months into 2020 under a freaking quarantine/stay at home order… How the hell do you write about dating under those circumstances?

Well… I imagine I won’t. 2020 will likely be about Living Single and re-evaluating people and things that are important… and how to stay sane while stuck at home! Bare with me… entries will likely be random, but you don’t go from working 60+ hours per week to confined to a small apartment overnight and maintain a clear head.