In my July contribution to The Pastry Box Project, If Not Now, published on the eve of my 32nd birthday, I share my lifelong struggle with seeking approval — and that perfect intersection of readiness and permission where everything seems to click.
When I turned 30, I suddenly had this realization that I was officially an adult and no longer needed anyone’s permission. “Screw you, I’m 30!” I’d say out loud to my imaginary naysayers. Not long after, I left New York, left everything behind I’d ever known in search of a life that was more me. I sold all of the possessions I was always told I was supposed to have, I said goodbye to all of the conveniences I was always told I was supposed to love, and I did exactly what was in my heart. Why was I moving to the middle of nowhere when I had a thriving business on the brink of expansion? “Because I’m 30 and I can do whatever I want!”
But that audaciousness didn’t last. Two years later and I still find myself desperate for approval.
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