The Version of Me I Thought I'd Be by Now

I used to have my life planned out with an impressive level of confidence for someone who had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

I was going to meet my husband at Michigan State, he'd propose under Beaumont Tower around graduation, we'd get married, travel for a year, buy a house, have kids, and eventually I'd become a stay-at-home mom.

It was a cute plan. There was just one relatively important stakeholder missing: the husband.

As I got further into college, I realized the guys I was meeting weren't exactly auditioning successfully for the role, and my priorities changed. I focused on getting an internship, landed one at Amazon, and became tunnel-visioned on graduating and moving to Florida. Then COVID took away the senior year I'd pictured anyway, and my carefully planned transition into adulthood was officially off script.

Five years later, my life looks almost nothing like that original plan. I moved to Florida, built incredible friendships, moved into engineering, went back to school for my master's, and dated people who taught me that wanting to be married does not mean you should marry whoever happens to be standing in front of you.

The weird part is that I think 18-year-old me would be obsessed with my life. She'd want to know about our career, our friends, and all the experiences we've had.

Then she'd start probing.

"So... are we seeing anyone?"

No.

"Talking to anyone?"

Not particularly.

"Do we at least have a prospect?"

Girl.

The funny thing is that I still want what she wanted. I want to get married, have kids, build a family, and yes, becoming a stay-at-home mom still sounds pretty great to me. I've just stopped assigning deadlines to any of it.

That doesn't mean I don't compare myself to other people. Most of my coworkers are married, have children, or are in serious relationships. Friends get engaged, and pregnancy announcements show up on my feed. I'm genuinely happy for them, but sometimes there's still a little voice asking, Okay... so when is it my turn?

Then come the less fun questions. Are my standards too high? Am I too picky? Am I doing something wrong? Did everyone else receive instructions on how to find a husband and mine went to spam?

Work is where I notice this the most, which is ironic because professionally, I don't feel behind at all. I'll look around at coworkers with spouses and children before remembering there's a reason I'm often one of the youngest people in the room. Some of the people I'm comparing myself to have had five, ten, or fifteen more years to build their personal lives. Even when someone is my age, their timeline isn't evidence that mine is wrong.

I also have to be honest about where I've been putting my energy.

The last five years have been focused on my career, friendships, experiences, and now graduate school while working full-time. Dating hasn't received the same energy. I'm not spending my evenings on dating apps or wandering around Home Depot pretending to be lost in the lumber aisle, hoping my future husband comes over to help me.

If I met someone tomorrow, I'd be open to it. I'm just not actively searching for him right now.

I've rarely not gotten something I put 100% of myself into. I haven't been putting that kind of energy into finding a relationship, and that's okay. That energy is going toward things I think future Allana will be incredibly thankful for.

Obviously, relationships aren't a performance metric. I can't create a dashboard, identify a husband acquisition gap, develop an action plan, and circle back in Q4 with improved results. Man, do I wish it was that easy!

I also don't think being "on time" is worth choosing the wrong life just to hit the milestone. I'd rather be single at 27 than married on schedule to a mediocre man living a mediocre life. Being able to say "husband" isn't much of an accomplishment if I don't actually like the husband.

So yes, sometimes I'm jealous, and sometimes I wonder when it'll be my turn. But my life is also full of people I love, work that challenges me, an education I'm proud to be pursuing, and experiences that weren't anywhere on the original plan.

I still fully believe I'll have the future I always wanted. I just don't know when anymore, and for the first time, I don't think I need to.

Maybe 18-year-old me wasn't wrong about what she wanted. She just didn't understand how many incredible things could happen between where she was and where she thought she needed to be.

At 27, I still want the dream. I've just stopped giving it a deadline.

And if my future husband is reading this, the Beaumont Tower proposal window has unfortunately closed. You're going to have to come up with something else.