Turning 29
Not Where I Thought I'd Be—And That's Perfectly Okay As I sit here writing this, I'm 29. Just typing that number feels surreal. For so long, 29 sounded like the age when everything would be "figured out"—stable career, maybe a house, a clear path forward, the kind of life I imagined when I was younger and the future felt like a straight line. But life doesn't follow straight lines. It zigzags, it breaks, it rebuilds in ways you never saw coming. If you'd asked me five years ago where I'd be at 29, I would have painted a very different picture. I thought I'd still be climbing the ladder at the job I once believed was my forever career. I pictured family gatherings in the childhood home that held every memory, weekends at the trailer where I'd spent countless golden summers with friends who felt like extensions of myself. I thought my parents' relationship—the foundation I grew up relying on—would still be intact, and the dad I knew would sti...