In two days, I’ll turn 37.

I never imagined 37 would look like this.

If you had asked me years ago, I would’ve told you that by now, I’d probably be married. Maybe have one or two kids. Living a stable life. Settled.
But instead, I’m still in the middle of figuring things out.

The past few weeks have been unexpectedly hard. June arrived not with celebration, but with a series of moments that quietly broke my heart—one of them being the news that someone I once loved is now engaged. I didn’t cry much. I didn’t fall apart. But something in me felt deeply shaken. Not because I was still hoping for us. But because it reminded me—again—of everything I’ve lost. Everything I haven’t found.

2024 wasn’t easy either. I made a big decision to take a career break. It was the right decision for my soul, but it came with a cost—financial, emotional, and existential. I’ve lived the past 8 months without a steady income, trying to build something on my own, trying to find purpose in this in-between space. And while I’ve started new things, added new skills, and filled my days with work and growth… the truth is, I’m still searching.

Sometimes, I wonder when I’ll be able to stop.
When I can finally rest.
When I no longer need to explain why things didn’t go the way I thought they would.

But I also know—I’m not the only one.
Many people my age are carrying quiet questions, unspoken sadness, unexpected lives.
Not every path is linear.
Not every story looks like the version we imagined when we were younger.

So, I’ve stopped fighting life.
I’m not forcing clarity anymore.
I’m not rushing to “fix” everything.

I’m simply walking. One step at a time.
Doing what I can with what I have.
Being present with the version of me that exists today—not the one I thought I’d be.

And even when it feels lonely, I try to trust that this too has meaning.

I don’t know what the rest of this year will bring. I don’t know if I’ll find the answers I’ve been looking for.
But I hope I’ll keep growing. I hope I’ll keep giving.
And I hope I can keep meeting life as it comes—with a little more softness, and a little more grace.

This is where I am now. 37.
Not quite where I thought I’d be.
But still here.
Still breathing.
Still becoming.