For some unknown reason, I thought by the time I was xx years old I would’ve grown up.
I would have learned how to balance everything I want to do.
I would know what I wanted to do with my life.
I would be able to let the little things go and embrace the important stuff with vigor.

I thought that -when I was finally a grownup – I would ‘get’ it.
I would understand the difference between right and wrong.
And I was hoping (oh, how I was hoping) that the gray areas would get smaller and smaller.

I thought that people wouldn’t act like children (myself included).
And that the middle school awkwardness would wear off.
I thought I’d be sure and confident.
And I wouldn’t be affected so much by others.

I thought that by now I’d have more things figured out.
I’d be wiser and kinder and calmer.
I’d not only know where I was headed, but I’d help others find their way.

I thought by now it would be different, I would be different.
But I’m still the same old me.

A few things have changed, though
And for this I am grateful.
I might not be much wiser in the ways of the world,
But I have learned a lot about myself.
I know that I am over-confident at times and all-too-often not confident enough.
And that figuring out when I am one or the other is the beginning of figuring out how to change it.
I know that sometimes my words are bigger and more powerful than I think they are.
And I should harness those words and value their effect.
I know that I am good at some things – very good even –
And that I should accept compliments with grace.
I know that comparing yourself to others is pointless and even dangerous to your self-esteem
And that though it looks like someone has it all, we never really know what hurts they carry.

(I’ve learned these things.  I know these things.  I know them well.
Yet knowing what I should do and what I actually do are two different things.)

But I’m hoping that by the time I’m xx years old, I’ll finally have it all figured out.
(i’m not gonna hold my breath)