Patience

As in, I could use some. I feel like the clock is ticking for me to get married and when I really think about it, I have no idea why. Maybe because I assumed I’d be married with 2 or 3 kids by now? Maybe because I think I’ll die young and one of my goals is to be in love – so if I die without that I’ll feel like I’ve failed at life? Maybe because I’m embarrassed to be one of the many sad, silly, single, 30-something women I used to secretly mock and pity in the youthful (and, it turns out, delusional) self-confidence that I’d never be one of them? Maybe because I want to be in the next relationship before my ex is?

Or maybe because I lack patience—which really means I have control issues—which really means I lack trust in God and the universe to provide love for me? And that’s the reason that chokes me up and hits home.

I want to believe that I’m safe and provided for but really I don’t. What I do believe is that if I don’t take action every second of every day, my life and the world around me will just fall apart and nothing will work and it will all be a shambles and I’ll be homeless and dying on the street with no friends and no family and no food. I don’t believe the universe cares much about me at all, actually. And that’s sort of a problem. It’s also a giant case of hubris; how in the world can I be so arrogant to believe I earned this  incredible life all on my own, solely through my own actions? I didn’t, that’s how.

Something out there cares enough about me to put me up in this cushy, fun, interesting, and valuable life. And that same something cares enough about me to lead me to an awesome man who will love me and whom I will love and it’s really not for me to question the timing. Or, maybe that’s not the plan for me at all. Either way, no amount of struggle or wanting something a certain way or frustration is going to change what’s coming for me. I’m not in control of this and I’ve got to trust that something bigger than me is.

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