When I was young, I had a vision of what ‘perfect’ looked like.
In the vision, I work hard and become the doctor my parents always wanted me to be. I marry a smart, successful man, and between us, we have a handful of mischievous, but lovable kids. I’m also an amazing parent (again, this is a vision..), and my children are naturally gifted, having been passed on our “perfect” genes.
What can I say? I dream big.
As for the whole ‘”kid” thing, I had that part covered too. In fact, I popped out a whopping three!
But there I was, a “successful” adult, having laid out foundation in exactly the “perfect” way, just as I had envisioned it, and still, things weren’t perfect. I had done everything “textbook”, followed the algorithm of my perfect-vision to a T, and still wound up feeling like I wanted to do something else.
I felt that life had a different calling.
I made a big announcement in 2020, and said goodbye.
And now, I’m a nomad. Armed with curiosity, desire to dive into the untapped (the digital world fascinates me) and newfound skills in communication, marketing, and design, I feel reborn.
The best part of it all is that, midlife, my story seems to have only just begun. As my true life story unfolds, I’m becoming farther from perfect than I’ve ever been before.
Turns out being imperfect is exactly the kind of “perfect” life I needed all along.
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