She’d thought she’d be married by 22;
she married at 31,
when a baby made her much more willing to take that leap.
She’d thought she’d have at least 3 kids;
she has one (so far),
sweeter than she could’ve ever imagined.
She’d thought she would’ve published her book by now;
only her short pieces have been published (and by other people),
which was even better.
She’d thought she would’ve finished school long before;
she is only a third of the way there because she liked it so much,
she wants to learn more.
She thought she would’ve been working as an editor by now,
but rather, she is writing and doing things she doesn’t know how to do
and is still learning to do.
Her expectations hadn’t been greater than her reality,
for what was real and not imagined
was better than any dream.