I have always been a gal with a plan. I pride myself on my organisation and planning skills and be it a holiday, a birthday or my whole blummin’ life; I will ALWAYS have a plan. I live my life knowing exactly what I’m doing every day of the week, right down to what day I’m doing my laundry and when I’ve set aside time to binge-watch Dynasty on Netflix. It’s structured and meticulous and that’s just the way I like it. Lately though, I’ve started to realise maybe it’s time some of my best made plans were ripped to shreds.
Everyone has a life plan of sorts. Be that a fine tuned life spreadsheet of career and financial goals or just a few things you want to achieve by the time you hit 30, having something to strive for makes us all work harder. I’ve always been the type of person that needs to visualise an end goal to push myself, the only thing that got me through all-nighters in the university library was the image of me swishing around in my cap and gown come graduation day.
These past few weeks though I’ve started to realise why having a life plan set in stone isn’t necessarily the healthiest way to live my life. Now don’t get me wrong I’m still a gal with goals. I know where I want to get in my career and I’ve set myself benchmarks for when I want to hit certain points. I know where I want to get with this blog, with the relationships in my life and the directions I want my finances to go in (up, believe it or not).
My 23rd birthday is fast approaching, now I’m hardly going to be collecting my pension anytime soon, but I’ve been having sleepless nights worrying that I won’t have achieved the things I want to by the time I’m 23, 25 or even 30. But then I realised all the things I have achieved already. I moved away from home, I graduated, I have a great job in a career I LOVE.
So I’ve decided to rip up my life plan. To live in the moment, to appreciate everything I’ve already achieved. I have no intention to take my foot off the gas and hopefully this time next year when my 24th birthday is on the horizon (will I officially be an adult by then?) I’ll have a whole host of other achievements to add to my list.
So what if I haven’t bought a house by the time I’m 30? So what if I haven’t landed a promotion within the next 2 years? So what if everyone I love falls of the face of the earth leaving me to a life of loneliness?! OK so let’s hope the last one doesn’t actually happen but my point is, if I carry on stressing about whether or not I’ll hit certain goals at certain ages then before I know it I’ll be 45 and will have spent my youth in a haze of stress and tears.
My life plan has been firmly ripped to shreds, I’m working hard but I’m going with the flow. I’ve set myself new, realistic goals. Goals that it would be nice to achieve but if I don’t then who bloody cares. It’s hardly life or death if I’m not living on a yacht in the Caribbean by the time I’m 35 is it?