Restarting My Life in my 30s
Realizing that something needs to change seems to happen in a split second for some people. They either have a near-death experience, a coming-of-age moment, a really hard trial/tribulation they endure, or an epiphany that’s so wild they can’t ignore it.
That didn’t happen with me.
It took a long time, actually.
This is my story.
The Beginning Of The Story
After opening the one present I got for Christmas, I expected some Christmas magic to happen. Like my seven-year-old self showing her missing front teeth as she smiled at me. A sudden hit of the smells of cinnamon rolls. Something.
But I got nothing.
Not that there was anything wrong with the present (I genuinely thanked my Secret Santa for her present that she got off my Amazon wishlist).
It’s just my life.
It’s not really my life.
At least, the one I would choose.
And I asked myself, am I living the life I really want to live? Do I like what I’m doing? Where I’m living? Who I am?
No.
I don’t.
It’s also not that this Christmas was that unspecial.
