When I was young, I had a vision of what ‘perfect’ looked like.
In the vision, I work hard to become the doctor I was always “destined” to be (as a first generation immigrant, you bet your butt it’s where the mishpucha always thought I’d be headed). In this vision, I also marry a smart, successful man and, between us, we have a handful of mischievous, yet surprisingly lovable, kids. Those children are also, of course, naturally gifted, having been passed on those “perfect” genes. Oh, & I also somehow evolve into this ridiculously amazing mom (bear with the vision, folks), like the kind that whip up dinner without even being at home.
Hey, a girl can dream..
As for the whole ‘”kid” thing, I had that covered, too. In fact, I popped out a whopping three!
So there I was, a “successful” adult, having laid out foundation in exactly the “perfect” way I had envisioned.
Yet things weren’t perfect.
I had done everything “textbook”: following algorithms (almost) to a T, and I still wound up feeling like I was meant to do something else.
It felt like life had a different calling.
In 2020, I made a big announcement and said goodbye to the clinical career I always thought I’d retire in.
I became a nomad (man, writing that out is pretty scary!)
Armed with curiosity, a desire to dive into untapped creative mediums (the digital world particularly fascinates me) and newfound skills in communication, marketing, and design, I felt.. reborn.
Am I still reeling from my decision?
Of course. It hasn’t been easy.
But it’s also been incredibly mind-blowing.
The best part of it all is that, midlife, my story seems to have only just begun. As the pages of my book unfold, I’m becoming farther from perfect than ever before.
Maybe “imperfect” is exactly what I needed all along.
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