MANN: Who decides what successful really means?

Image Credit: SUBMITTED

 


OPINION


When I was in in my teens, I remember talking about my 30s as this far off distant place where life gets real.

I saw it as this ridiculous measurement of life where certain chapters had to be completed…because that’s just what was expected.

There would still be fun and adventure of course, just a more refined version.

I believed by my 30s I would have everything together — my career, my home, a husband, and I would be shuttling a couple of kids back and forth from their soccer practices and music lessons.

I would have mastered the art of painting, the guitar (found out my fingers are too small to reach the dang frets), and I would own more than one pair of fancy shoes (because I would be attending all these ridiculously lavish events — think NYE functions every weekend).

You would find me hosting elaborate parties for friends and family, complete with food that I had prepared (and people couldn't stop talking about), delicious wine, and everyone would be enjoying hours and hours of activities like charades or karaoke.

Naturally I would be in the best shape of my life because of all the yoga and fitness classes I would be taking, and I would be the poster child for a healthy living for my children.

Since I’ve been in my 30s for quite some time now, I definitely find myself going through my mental checklists now and then.

There are a lot more question and exclamation marks on that list than I imagined in my teens, and probably a few doodles of unicorns in the margins, but it’s not a completely incomplete checklist.

I have my health, and I think that probably SHOULD have been on the list.

I have my babies, and they are growing into extraordinary human beings who will eventually take on the world, whatever that might look like in 10, 20, 30 years from now.

I don’t have a house, and I completely blame not winning the Y Dream Home Lottery for that one, but I have a really great job.

As far as fitness, that area could use a little massaging.

Yesterday I went to my first exercise class in years. Not only did I feel completely distracted wearing a T-shirt that continuously wanted to ride up every time I moved, I felt pain in places I haven’t felt in quite some time.
 
I looked around trying to gauge how bad I was compared to everyone else.

I realize now I’m probably not going to be a fitness fanatic in my 30s. I’ll settle for pleasantly mediocre — for now.

Fall is an interesting time, because even though technically the year is three quarters over, it’s a beginning for so many things and it’s hard not to start thinking about the rest of your life.

My younger self was a little bit off on where my 30ish-year-old-self would find herself now, but you have to start somewhere, and there are no hard and fast rules on what dictates success. 


We welcome your comments and opinions on our stories but play nice. We won't censor or delete comments unless they contain off-topic statements or links, unnecessary vulgarity, false facts, spam or obviously fake profiles. If you have any concerns about what you see in comments, email the editor. 


This image released by Warner Bros. Pictures shows Jason Momoa in a scene from "Aquaman."
MOVIE REVIEW: Jason Momoa swims but 'Aquaman' sinks
  OPINION Superheroes who travel by sea horse never get any respect. Since Paul Norris and Mort Weisinger first dreamed him up in 1941, Aquaman's fate has largely been as the Rodney Dangerfield of DC Comics &m

Top News