Oh how things change... — Candace D.O. Green

Hi friends,

It’s taken me a while to gather my thoughts for today’s post and I’m still not sure I’ve been successful, but we’re here now. Before I get into my introspective thoughts, a few fun updates: I’m going to be a doctor! I’ll begin my PhD journey next month and it still hasn’t hit me yet. (I’m sure it will once that first paper is due, though. 😂) I celebrated my 32nd birthday with friends, and I was once again reminded of the value of my platonic community. I am trying and utterly failing to come up with a good segue into the real point of this post, so we’ll just dive right in.

If 19-year-old me saw the current me in a coffee shop, she would consider me a failure. Not making 6 figures at 32? Failure. Still living in an apartment? Failure. No husband or kids? (mega failure) Still struggling with her faith? (Figures) Don’t own a business? (Girl, what are you even doing?!) Taking gap years between a bachelor’s and master’s degree? (Underachiever) By the age of 32 I thought my life would look like this: I’d be a primary care physician running her own practice in Baltimore, MD, a wife with two children, a dog, and going to the same church I grew up in. Here is what 19-year-old me couldn’t have predicted at 32:

I’m not ready for children. I’m not ready for marriage (yet). I may never own a house; I’ve fallen in love with condos and the fact that someone else does maintenance for me. The gap years I took between my bachelor’s and master’s degrees gave me the experience to breeze through that second degree with a 3.97 GPA. Everyone doesn’t have to be a business owner to be successful. Yes, my faith is holding on by a thread, but it’s still there. We’ve all heard the saying “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans”, and I can confidently say that is true. My life has gone nothing like the 19-year-old me would have thought, and I’m grateful for it. If I married young, I probably would have been divorced by now, if I had tons of money, I would have mismanaged it, and if God had given me everything I wanted, I would have no reason to lean on Him.

So, at 32, I am grieving the life I could have had, but I am also thankful for the life I do have. I am healing the many years of physical childhood abuse suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to protect me and making room for the people in my life who hold space for me. I am taking care of what I’ve been given because I know that there is purpose in even the small things. I continue to show up with a smile because I know it’s never too late unless I quit…which I won’t.

Oh, how things change, and I’m so grateful for it.