I’ve always been one of those women searching the world for answers.
In your 20s, it’s acceptable. But most people have it figured out enough by their 30s.
And then there’s me: mid-thirties, single, and taking a path rather different than most.
I walk lines between naiveté and wisdom like the lines don’t exist at all, like the same force that spills brilliant words from my lips keeps the wonder in my eyes and foolishness in my actions.
Caution and I don’t play well together for very long. I’ll give it a step or two before I throw my whole heart in, because I know how resilient and strong I am, because in some ways I want the world to break me open to let more in.
I can be a scientist and a mystic and find a place for both logic and pragmatism to dwell alongside the mysterious and occult. I can read and solve equations that tell us about the world at its most fundamental levels, but I let my mind dive deeper than the math goes, into a realm where there is no proof, only intuition.
The challenge has been to accept that others may be disappointed with my decisions because it will, at times, appear as if I’m not, because I’m not choosing motherhood or security or prestige or wealth.
Instead, I’m choosing wildness and freedom and magic.
And that’s a path I’m creating as I go.