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Not ready for ten years…

I’ve known it was coming for, well, always.

I just always thought it would be….different.

From the first time it’s discussed, sometime in junior high, you picture your ten year reunion as some remote happening, some distant point in the future where you’ll have it all together and you’ll appear – perfect, svelte, rich, mani’d & pedi’d, and with abs. Smelling of designer parfume, strolling expertly along on impossibly high heels without even wobbling.

I am so far from any of those things.

I guess I just never expected it to come so soon. And it’s not like I expected to one day wake up and be tall and rich and have a killer wardrobe, I guess I just expected that over the years I might care a little less.

I thought I did.

I mean, I’ve become a completely different person in ten years. So much has changed. I’ve become a mother. Twice. I’ve become someone’s wife. Also, twice.

I think I have a much better grip on the person I actually AM, and I think I actually LIKE this person – it’s just, I guess, hard to grasp that this person is so different than the person I was, and the person I always expected to become.


My photos. My life.


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