Mom moved in with me before she turned 50. She’s 57.
At this rate, do I have 9 years before I can move in with someone who will take care of me for the rest of my life?
You spend your whole career doing things others want done. You spend your weekends doing what others want (in my case, that’s a whole lotta nothing).
When do you get to live for you and why does doing so mean losing what you have? Why do the things that you do for others become your whole life, and why is it so hard to live for you?
And how do you — during those quiet moments when you’re alone and loving that aloneness — keep from dreaming about doing exactly that?
Would you miss any of it, if it were gone? Or would you finally become who you were meant to be — assuming you weren’t meant to be everyone else’s?