What Shoes Look Good With This Stress?

When I was four, success meant staying inside the lines when I would watercolor for hours at the coffee table. At seven, it was hitting a home run in the backyard while playing baseball with my daddy pitching. When I was twelve, success was making it through a night of awkward moments and uncomfortable silences at the middle school dance. At 15, it was getting the kiss at the end of that first date. At 18, success was walking gracefully across the stage to accept my diploma in 5-inch heels and not falling down the stairs (a BIG thank you to Andrew W. for making sure this didn't happen!). At 22, success was walking down the aisle in a 35 lb. wedding dress and not tipping over. At 25, success was getting through a messy divorce and getting rid of the 35 lb. wedding dress. Now, at 26, I'm trying to define what success means to me. This is an unbelievably difficult task. In preparation for the movie, Something Borrowed, I started re-reading the book last night. It immediately struck a chord that it never touched the first time I read it 6 years ago. The first chapter describes in depth the inner thoughts and feelings of Rachel, one of the main characters. It takes place on her 30th birthday and all she can seem to muster is how much she missed out on in her 20's and how she wishes she would have accomplished more before hitting the big 3-0.

Have you ever felt like you're slipping in quick sand and everyone else around you is somehow being able to sprint by? That's how I feel. I feel behind. I can't help but panic when I think about how close I am to 30. My heart starts to race and my palms literally start to perspire. 3 1/2 years and I'll be out of my 20's. OMG. When did this happen?! Where did the years go?

I feel like I have a million things I want to accomplish between today and November 19, 2014. So many things I want to cross off that infamous bucket list. But time is tickin, people. I'm not getting any younger. I have so many ideas and dreams flying around in my brain right now, it's absolutely ridiculous. I mean, no wonder I can't concentrate or focus on anything. I tried a Zumba class Monday night for the first time. The other people in the class must have thought I was on crack. No joke. I couldn't focus long enough to synchronize my feet and my arms into any kind of rhythm. My mind would start racing. I can't sleep. And if I do, I have whacked out dreams about marriage and babies and jobs and places to live and what to name those babies...it's overwhelming to say the least. Is this normal? Am I the only 26 year old that has this issue?? If that's the case, maybe I've taken a left turn into crazy town. Part of me wants to be totally spontaneous and pick up and move. Another part of me wants to go back to school and choose a career that I would love. A big part of me still dreams of that perfect little life...the husband, the babies, the dog, the white picket fence...I wish I could transport myself back into 1955 and join June Cleaver and live in Mayberry or wherever it is that would bring something close to perfection.

Someone once spoke the words to me, "Follow your heart and don't ever settle." This advice keeps me up at night. It not only dances around in my brain but I swear it makes my heart flutter. I don't want to be the girl that settles. I did that once and it caused me to lose 6 years of my life. I don't want to just be content. I want to be excited about life. I get giddy and turn into a giggly school girl when I think about what life could be like in my perfect world. Perfect worlds don't exist, but happiness does. Even though the thoughts and dreams are somewhat scattered right now, I think I've realized how to achieve my success at 26 years old. It's to let it just happen. To let go of some of this stress. To truly follow my heart, no matter where it may lead me. I need to dig deep and use my strong southern roots and do what makes me happy, no matter what others may think. So what if I fall down? I'll just get back up, dust myself off, put on a new pair of heels and keep truckin along. Maybe one day these stilettos will take me exactly where I'm supposed to go.