Countless astrologers have told me that the last 3 years of my life would be some of the hardest years. No one could really define how exactly, but they said it would happen. The lining of the planets, they described.
By the way, I’m brown. Southeast Asian. And brown people will swear their lives by the lining of the damn planets. They make career and business moves, plan their families, even marry complete strangers, for fuck’s sake. To the rest of the world, the whole thing seems a little foolish. But to us, its the invisible hand of God guiding us.
Do I believe it? Yes and no. Two broken serious relationships, a job I hate, a brother with a failed marriage, a mother with open heart surgery. All within the course of 3 years. Sure, it could have been worse, but it definitely could have been easier too. Three years ago, I was a laughing, light hearted idiot. Here I am now, dyeing my gray hair monthly and counting that ticker my ovaries as I slowly approach advanced maternal age.
Would I take it back, the last couple years? Would I want to continue to live life thinking that the whole thing is a movie with an eventual happy ending? I thought so, for a long time. A few months ago, I would have killed to be that 20 something year old with my lingering post-adolescent remnants.
But tonight, as I wiped the tears off of my cell phone screen and gathered up my broken wits, I realized that I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Not one hopeless moment or one desperate prayer to God. Simply for this one very reason: I grew the fuck up.
This is my story.