Never in my life did I believe that I would find the simple number 22 so daunting. It reminds that with each year that passes by I have yet to actually live life. I don’t mean going out doing crazy shit. I mean simple things that bring you happiness.
You see I’ve spent my last 21 years helping everyone but my self. I put my needs and happiness behind that of my family. So much to the point when I often feel like I’m just watching the movie of my life and never directing it. I used to think “well maybe this just isn’t my year”. When in actuality this is my life and every year should be my year.
I have the right to cater to my own needs first. At this point in my life I have no kids and no real major responsibilities. So why do I always feel obligated to put everyone before myself. Do I love my family? Yes I do, that isn’t a reason to just throw my life away serving them.. But this is the tricky part of the story because when I do put myself first I feel Guilt.
Yup the big G word that keeps me held captive and afraid to be selfish and live. I have guilt that I won’t be here when my family needs me and that will cause some massive tragedy to happen.
But sometimes I think that I’ve just become so used to the mundaneness of my life that stepping outside of that boundary would lead to the world ending….