We spend so much time wondering if we’re “behind” that we forget to ask who made the schedule in the first place?

Spending time with family always has a way of surprising you.

They can either make you feel completely at home…

Until someone asks a question that makes you wonder why they thought it was okay to ask. 

What should have been a relaxing moment sitting by the lake, watching people jump off water slides and swim around, until the conversation shifted.   

I was asked a question. 

It wasn’t rude because of the words they chose. 

It was rude because of what the question assumed. 

And for a brief moment..

I blanked. 

It wasn’t because I didn’t have any answer. 

It was because I couldn’t decide whose life I was being measured against. 

Honestly, it’s not the first time this particular person asked me something like that. 

In fact, it’s kinda comical how much it’s expected from them. 

The questions change every now and then, but always return to the same place. 

Am I dating anyone? 

Why not? 

Are you seeing anyone? 

Don’t you want to? 

Don’t you understand what you’re missing? 

At this point, I’d say it’s more predictive to have a conversation with myself. 

So after my brief moment of surprise, my reaction shifted into a more amused annoyance. 

Not because I was offended. 

Not because I was ashamed.

Because I couldn’t fathom why my life was so much more interesting to them than it was to me. 

I couldn’t help but think, how often we compare everyone’s life to an invisible timeline that’s somehow become “normal.”  Like at a certain age we immediately start checking off boxes. 

Are they dating?

Married?

Starting a family?

Bought a house yet?

Advancing in their career? 

As if life is nothing but a series of checkboxes on a time schedule instead of individuals with our own time table. 

It’s strange, from my own experiences with these types of questions, they rarely come from a genuine place. 

Most often it’s comparisons disguised as conversation. It’s a quiet and socially accepted way to say, “Your life doesn’t look like mine.” instead of, “How’s life treating you?” 

And maybe people should stop trying to replicate a life that’s already been lived. 

“They reduce someone’s entire life to a single missing box, while overlooking everything that’s already been built.”

I want to be clear about something. 

There isn’t anything wrong with falling in love. 

There’s nothing wrong with getting married, starting a family, or sharing your life with someone. I think that’s probably one of the most fulfilling and beautiful things that shouldn’t be taken for granted. 

But they’re also not the only thing that gives you a fulfilling or meaningful life. 

I don’t know if somewhere along the way, the whispers of cultural history have convinced us that certain milestones have expiration dates. That at a certain age, our life has to look a certain way.

And if it doesn’t, people begin asking questions–most of the time the questions aren’t  meant to be malicious. Sometimes people can’t imagine another path. 

For me, taking the time to learn to pause within myself has helped me realize that life isn’t a race. It’s a simple collection of seasons and right now my season looks different than someone else’s. 

I’ve spent time building a career I’m proud of. I’ve slowly created a space that finally feels like mine. I’ve cared for my family when it was needed. I’ve started learning more about me and about who I am and what I will and won’t tolerate for my peace. 

Most importantly, I’m learning what kind of life I want to build. 

None of those things fit neatly into the questions people tend to ask. They’re only looking at the surface level, but the thing is they’re still part of a full life. 

I think that’s what bothers me about questions like that one I was asked. 

They reduce someone’s entire life to a single missing box, while overlooking all the overflow sections of your life. 

When the conversation finally turned away from me, I simply gave my attention back to the lake. 

Kids were still laughing and jumping off the water rides. Parents bothered floating near the shore, soaking up the sun. A few kayakers left ripples in the water behind them. 

Life had kept moving, unconcerned with the question that briefly settled in my mind. 

And maybe I can learn from that. 

The older I get, the less interesting living according to other people’s timeline is to me. Not because I have everything figured out, but because there’s more than one way to live a full and well life. 

Some people meet the love of their live at an early age. 

Others when they’re a bit more seasoned. 

Some become parents.

Some become mentors. 

Some travel the globe. 

Some build quiet lives, that mean the world to them. 

Not all the stories are more meaningful or complete than the other. They’re simply different chapters, written at different times by different authors. 

So the next time I’m asked that intrusive question–which I’m sure I will– I hope I can remember this moment. 

Just remember that my life is moving ahead at its own pace. 

I’m not missing out.

I’m not waiting to begin

My life is already happening.

Someday my timeline may include things that didn’t make it today. I hope my life is always evolving and growing. But when the moment comes, I want them to arrive because the timing is right for them–not because it was manufactured by outside pressure to match a life I was never meant to live. 

I think the better question we should ask ourselves isn’t “Am I where everyone else is?” 

But, “Am I becoming the person I want to be?” 

More soon,

Quill