Adulting (Still Under Construction)

I call this chapter of my life “Why her and not me?”

A question I’ve asked myself too many times this year.

Why is her love good enough for marriage and mine not?

Why was she the end goal and not me?

At first, I told myself maybe it was biology. Maybe the XY gene could sense I wasn’t ready. Maybe they could tell I had dreams that didn’t include dinner ready at six and kids tucked in by eight. Maybe they could sense I wasn’t raised by a mother and somehow lacked the instincts that come naturally to other women.

But I’m 26. And suddenly it feels like the door frame for producing offspring is shrinking. Like my eggs are quietly leaving the nest and one day they’ll all be gone. So maybe it’s time to put the dreams aside and find new ones. Dreams that don’t end with me sitting alone on holidays in a nursing home.

But would that be fair?

Settling for someone I didn’t love just to produce offspring. To contribute to society. To avoid being alone. Would that be fair to him? To the children? How would they feel knowing mommy chose them because her clock was ticking — not because she was in love and wanted them?

But that’s the thing — I do want it.

I want it all.

The husband. The kids. The holidays. Game days. The family. I want it all.

And if I’m honest, there was only one person I ever imagined building that life with. Only one person I could be that vulnerable with. And now he’s happily married — or just married — and I’m left standing in the rain while thunder and lightning dance around me.

He left me feeling scared. Used. Replaceable.

Like I could never be worthy of something that sacred.

Like I simply wasn’t enough.

So maybe that’s why I’m 26 with no husband, no kids, no relationship. Maybe it isn’t about timing. Maybe it isn’t about destiny. Maybe it’s because somewhere along the way, I started believing I wasn’t worthy of being chosen.

So I answer my own question: it was never about her being more worthy. It was about me believing I wasn’t.