Only recently have I begun to think I’m stuck in Never Never Land — like I moved to New York City to escape growing up. Except New York City seemingly forces one to mature quickly and somehow manages to silently, swiftly age each one of us tremendously and without realization until we really stare at ourselves in the mirror one morning. If that’s not reality, I don’t know what is.
A couple of months ago I was walking home from a friend’s apartment and had a minor freak out. Suddenly it hit me: I’m on the brink of turning 27, living in a cute little apartment with one female roommate who I met on Craigslist (not that that’s a bad thing). Meanwhile, nearly all of my close friends are marrying, buying houses, starting families and settling down. Then there’s me. I don’t have a significant other and I don’t have any prospects. Some of my friends supposedly enjoy living vicariously through me, but are they just saying that to make me feel better?
I’m due to attend a friend’s wedding this weekend, one cousin is marrying in May, another is house hunting, yet another was engaged over Christmas and the list goes on. Am I missing the boat?
Did I really move here to escape making choices that would inevitably require me to settle down? Not necessarily. Obviously we’re all on our own paths to happiness (or destruction — who knows). Without a doubt, I’m in no way shape or form ready for major commitments (read: mortgage, marriage license, kids) and perhaps I find comfort in living in New York City because there’s a fair amount of people who share the same sentiments.
I guess my main goals right now are having a successful career that I love and traveling. Oh, and probably finding that someone special. In the grand scheme of things, there’s really nothing wrong with this mindset, but I anticipate a few more freak outs along the way until I feel like I finally have it all “together.”