I’m sure everyone come to this realization some point in their life that real life and media are not consistent on how to represent the average 20-something-year-old. I’m fine with that. I’ve always known that, but in the past few days I’ve felt this itching under my skin.
I’m not unhappy with my life, but I feel as though I’m lacking in some way. I thought I would be more adventurous. I thought that moving out to Seattle meant that I would find friends that I could hang out with all the time. I’m not sure why I thought that because other people have lives, and I like my quiet time, but I thought moving out here would somehow make all my problems disappear, but in reality it has only made them smaller.
While that is a good thing, I still think I’m searching for something that I haven’t found in my life yet.
I think I’m still searching for me. That sounds corny, and I know that this is the time in a person’s life where there is a lot of change, but give me a minute to explain myself.
I lived at home through college. Not because I didn’t want to live with roommates, but because I was taking care of my mother. I’ve talked about my mother a bit, but to put things simply she had a stroke and spent some very tense months in the hospital where we were told multiple times that she wouldn’t make it. Now, for a then 18 year old that’s pretty traumatic. She couldn’t speak for a long time, and finally hearing her speak again was one of the best moments of my life.
She had to learn how to walk again. How to get in and out of a car. Numerous things that we take for granted. After extensive therapy she was finally able to come home, and I thought that everything would return to normal.
It wasn’t the normal of before, but it became the new normal. My father is a saint and did more than I could ever do. The doctors visits, and keeping track of her medication was stressful when I was trying to balance school work as well, but I didn’t mind. I’d do it again in a heart beat, but I took on the role of caretaker more so than any other “role” I could fill.
I don’t know if it makes sense, but I was more caretaker than I was myself, and I’ve come to a point where that responsibility is no longer mine and I no longer identify by it. So, I find myself stuck. I find myself struggling on a day to day basis trying to figure out just who Sara is because I honestly don’t know sometimes.
I love my school work. I love saying that I’m getting my Master’s, but I feel like that’s only one part of me. A large part, but there are areas of myself I don’t understand. When I was 18 I thought that by now I’d have my life figured out, but that isn’t the case. Some of my friends seem like they have their lives figured out. Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. I’m sure in some way we’re all in the same boat.
I’m fine with not fully knowing who I am. I’m fine with trying new things, but I’m also hoping that when I look back on this time in my life I might be able to say that I finally started to figure out who I am.