Lately I’ve been thinking about the life I want to live, and if the life I’m currently living is actually living. We all have an idea of what we want to do when we ‘grow up’, an idea about the paths our lives will go but then for most of us, life doesn’t go to plan. I knew my life wouldnt go as I dreamt it once my momma died. It was a turning point as I saw life truly was short. I wanted to, in a sense, have my cake and ice cream now before I was too dead to enjoy them.
Since I’ve turned thirty, and now thirty one, I’m not really recognizing myself. I’m no longer sure of who I am, what’s worst, I’m not sure how the hell I got to this point. I just don’t think the 2.5 kids, with the white picket fence is my definition of the American dream. My Dream is looking a lot more like traveling the World with minimal baggage, collecting experiences rather than things. My happiest place has always been on a aircraft flying to a new unknown destination.
Although my story is still being written, what does your “American Dream” consist of?