myinnercheerleader

This might be the beginning of a midlife crisis.  Thirty-five qualifies as mid-life, right?  I'm pretty sure it does.  I was watching Good Morning America and yearned for a life in NYC so bad I felt myself wanting to explode.  I missed the smells of car exhaust and roasted nuts on the corners.  I missed the energy, the hustle and bustle, and the diversity of the people.  I missed the life I once dreamed of there.  For the few years I got to live there in my early twenties, I did appreciate it.  I took pride in the job I had worked so hard to get and felt accomplished by finally making it there.  I thought I'd stay in NYC, fall in love, and maybe eventually move to a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights.  At that time, kids really didn't even cross my mind or marriage for that matter.  I was really only concerned about falling in love and pursuing a career.  I thought I'd shop spend my Saturdays at brunch in Soho with friends then maybe heading to Bloomingdales to check out their latest sale, and finally finish the day with a matinee at the Public Theater or some off-Broadway production.  My craving for NYC is not something that can be cured with a weekend trip to visit friends.  It is more like coming to terms with the loss of a dream.  I guess you can have everything in life, just maybe not all at the same time....but a girl (or middle-aged woman) can still dream, right? 

The hard part about this is I am perfectly happy in my life.  Happier than I ever thought possible.  I am still madly in love with my husband of and we have perfectly energetic little kiddos.  I spend my days pouring my love and life into them.  I spent the first 25 years of my life trying to run away from Texas (which is not a bad place), and what do you know it is where I ended...up for now.  The adventure hasn't ended, it has simply changed.