on feeling unambitious

it’s nice to have the security of money, but a thing like that attained so easily, not earned my way can feel empty. I don’t want the emptiness.

I had a beautiful day today. almost so beautiful, I pulled out the trusty old notebook that I use to enlist task lists to accomplish and I wrote in cursive, almost like a blissful child. I woke up, and had breakfast and stayed in bed as long as I needed to (but not too long) and I went back to bed after my meal. even though I’d promised to meet a friend today, I called to cancel apologetically because I was having too much of a good time, in bed, re-watching the Crown, drinking my second bottle of kombucha.

when I woke up and felt hungry again, I ate a burger and answered another call from a friend and watched the rest of my show. january tends to turn my room quite cold, so even though I hate running up the electricity bill, I turned on the heater.

I watched the day pass by and I thought to myself, how truly unambitious I am. when i’m surrounded by other poeple, I tend to feel so inadequate because I can start to see how I’m not driven by a huge purpose. Yes, I like to save money because I like seeing money added to my bank account. it soothes my anxiety, the same anxiety born of my parents who felt incapable of providing for their child. I feel safer knowing I don’t need to have a child to provide for, but I can provide for myself and my existing family (my parents, my sister, and my cat) if need be.

all through last year, I’ve seen friends of friends conquering mountains, a shiny new job, moving abroad, and vacations that’ll make you want to unfollow them. in the midst of it all - I’ve wondered - what are my ambitions, what do I really want, without the overwhelming noise of other people.

I think I want a beautiful home. yes, it would be a miracle to own, but wouldn’t it be much more convenient to just rent? I want to take trips with my sister - to the grocery store and the shopping mall and silly little shops where we buy trinkets for our bags and our tables and our lives - sunglasses, funny fridge magnets, and flowers for the dining room. I want to buy candles, and sweet-smelling conditioner and plants for my room. I want to take sweet photos with all my friends and pin them up. I don’t think I want a wedding, I’m not sure I want a grand anything that’ll be too hard to maintain, something that’ll force me to compare myself with other people.

I think I want a partner. someone with kind eyes and the willingness to say, let me do it for you. someone who’ll wake up before me and make sure there’s breakfast and the cat is fed. Someone who’ll keep the house clean as much as I do and will get me flowers once a week. someone's never too busy to look up from their phone. someone who’ll help me acclimate to this world better, who says, let me teach you this silly thing. someone who can take care of things, and allows me to take care of him. someone with a quiet and sweet disposition, with whom I can turn my brain off, and someone who doesn’t burden me with the emotional labor of the relationship, leaving me entirely alone. someone later on in life, perhaps.

the truth is I don’t want grand things. I’ve learned to invest money, to file my taxes, and claim insurance so that my life is not run so much by money. I don’t think I ever was someone who was bothered by a scale in lifestyle so much, nor do I think I want to be. it’s nice to have the security of money, but a thing like that attained so easily, not earned my way can feel empty. I don’t want the emptiness, I don't want to worry if a thing I’m carrying creates the right impression.

so, what are my ambitions? to be loved and considered by my friends. to make more of them, and take silly little trips somewhere. to find more books that’ll end up as cornerstones of memory in my life, oh - where was I in life, when I finished intermezzo? to always sleep in this bed and to have a cupboard full of beautiful bed linen. to learn to cook for myself and the people I love, and to do work that creatively challenges me. to look up to people in my life and get handwritten notes that serve as a testament that someone loved me once, that I loved them back. to work out regularly, to take walks, and enjoy the fresh air and the fresh flowers, come February. I’d like to earn enough to go to the dentist whenever I want, and not worry about the teeth aligners I’m planning to get this year, pay for my parents’ insurance, and eat out often enough. I’d like to earn enough to take care of myself and have enough spare change for an emergency in the future.

a scale in lifestyle feels so much negative to me, because I’ve spent countless days of my life wondering what’s wrong with me for not wanting to climb up. of course, I love the odd day in a beautiful hotel room too. but make that the norm, and it stops feeling special. a scale doesn’t make me feel good about myself, any kind of scale. I’m starting to learn that about myself.

part of me would love for my life to stay this way. and the other part of me gets trapped every day. the glaring examples of my friends and other people on social media make it very evident, that I’m often alone in feeling this way. and all of this is more complicated than it seems too - appraisals and pay cheques and job interviews and fin-influencers remind me of that every day - and its hard to stay the course.

so at the course of turning thirty, while numbers weigh me down often, I take this day as a reminder that I have all I need. sweet people, and sweet things to eat. I have enough lamps in my room, that light up this screen and time enough to rest and make conversation, and allow my brain to swim in the vast oceans of girl essays. I’d like all of my life to feel like today, but since I know that’s not possible, I’ll take whatever sweet moments I can get anyway.