Goals

One thing I’ve always been really insecure about is the fact that I have no real long term goals.

I know who I want the Future Me to be. Someone who is kind and genuine and can say the hard things.

A wife.

A mom.

A grandma.

A baker and a reader and a writer and a knitter.

But what do I want to be doing? Where do I want to live? What are my dreams for the future?

I have honestly never known.

My husband is a dreamer. Always has been. He doesn’t talk about today — he talks about tomorrow, next year, next decade. When we were dating, I felt so embarrassed, so simple minded. He’d want to talk about our dreams and goals and I’d just kind of awkwardly shrug. I honestly had no idea what to tell him.

Who does that? What kind of person is physically incapable of planning their future?

Well…a person who is terrified.

There is a huge piece of me that never escaped the time of my life where I felt so hopeless that I couldn’t imagine a life of my own. Who is just so very grateful for today, for these kids, for this home where I feel safe, that I am scared to ask for more. Scared of asking for more than I deserve and scared of being disappointed.

So for nearly 20 years, I have taken life one day at a time. It’s both a blessing and a curse.

The blessing is on the days when I’m driving with my kiddos in the car, radio blaring, snocones in our hands, and I look at their faces in the rear view mirror and think…Lord, you must really love me to bless me so.

A safe, reliable vehicle. Money to spare on extravagances like spontaneous trips for snocones. Healthy, adorable, freckle faced kiddos. I stop and take a few minutes to remember life’s lowest points. The days when I felt that being dead was better than waking up to another day of abuse. When I felt trapped and saw no way out. When a safe night’s sleep was too much to hope for.

And then I think…oh how I wished I had known then, the possibilities that life holds.

I honestly don’t think I ever would have believed it. That life could go from not worth living, to overflowing with the most precious gifts.

But the curse is that part of me who when asked, “Where do you see your blog in 5 years?” or “What are your long term plans?” stares blankly and fumbles for some sort of answer that sounds like something a normal person would say.

Because I am scared of wanting.

What I DO know, is that I want to be happy. My husband and kids make me happy. My friends and our family make me happy. And this blog, although I don’t know where I want it to be in five years (do you ever want to write a book? AHHH I DON’T KNOW!!), makes me happy. And the reason it makes me so happy is because I share all of my heart.

People often think that writing about your ugly stuff and your mess makes you brave, but I have to say that it’s honestly the easiest, most healing thing in the entire world. Because when you put your history and your fears and your anxieties out there and a zillion other someones say, “me too!!” you realize that you’re fine. You understand that you don’t have to try to be someone else. That you and your mess are just like everyone else out there.

I hope that one day I can dare to dream about what my future looks like. But until that day, I’d love to hear about yours. Where do you want to be? What do you want to be doing? Who will you be with?

I just really love you guys. You have made my life infinity percent better. I hope you know that.

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