I’ve achieved pretty much nothing of significance this weekend, which is a fitting analogy of my life for the past 23 years TBH.
It was recently the birthday of somebody I used to know and I remember how traumatized they were by reaching the age of 20. It was a big deal. The time to man-up and make something of yourself. I wonder if they got as depressed at reaching 43 (if they’re still alive!)
I think back to my 20s and early 30s and I know that I did those things and it was me, but why does it feel like it was someone else?
I too am now skidding towards 43 at a rate of knots and I don’t feel as though I’ve achieved anything of any significance and nor am likely to now.
Sure I have two beautiful brilliant children and I’m happy with my husband…. but nothing else.
Then again maybe that’s all I really need.