No Grandma, I can't quit being a vegan and settle down. I really just can't.

When I start thinking about owning a house with my husband and two children, who I birthed, and waltzing off in the mornings to our Middle American jobs every day, I begin to hyperventilate.

On Monday, I called my friend, who won't speak to me, for like the hundredth time. On Tuesday, I found myself looking up plane tickets to Peru. On Wednesday, I threw my textbook across the room. On Thursday, I got coffee and smiled at the cute barista while simultaneously trying to picture the lease in my head that I am supposed to sign and fill out but have yet to do so because I honestly haven't made time to do it. On Friday, I decided that over spring break I want to road trip the East Coast and then proceeded to look up station wagons on Craigslist. On Saturday, I finished my book on tape and then sprawled out on the dirty kitchen floor for a bit, just staring at the ceiling. On Sunday, I sat in a lecture about race and America and cried after for approximately 20 minutes.

I would love to tell my grandma that I have all my ducks in line and that a life of shuffling the kids off to sports practice and hiking on the weekends sounds thrilling to me, but it just doesn't. Maybe I have seen too much in the world to be content with that or maybe that life just was never a part of who I am. But what if my aunt is right, I'm just at a messy time in my life and that'll change and I'll be ready for a "normal life?" But maybe she's wrong. Maybe messy Wednesdays and wild Sundays are etched in my bones. But maybe they're etched in all of our bones.

I keep hearing this thing where people say "I'm happy," almost as if they're trying to convince themselves. The question isn't whether you're happy with the way your life looks right now, the question is whether you are happy in this moment. Can you feel the happiness in your bones?

I have downs. I cry almost every time I go to the airport. I get really freaked out when I think about moving far away from my family some day. I get that gut-wrenching feeling when I know I've made a mistake. I go on a date only to not care or send a letter only to be disappointed to receive no response. I try to get a friend's attention but give up realizing maybe it's time to just let go. But in most moments of my life, I'm genuinely happy. I feel it. I've got a purpose for living. I've got a goal in mind. I don't have a suffocating future planned that makes me hyperventilate.

So yes, I am an absolute mess. I would rather finger paint than go to a business convention. Sue me, I obviously have no money. I'd rather live in a tiny home in South America than being surrounded by people who grew up and think the same things as me in the suburbs with the trimmed trees and the white picket fence and overwhelming amount of white people. I must be insane. No, I don't deeply desire to make a person that looks like me when there are perfectly good beings who have feelings just like me all over that need a home. Weird that we all have emotions, right? And no, eating that cheeseburger doesn't sound more appealing to me anymore than the spicy tofu. I've grown fond of it.

We grow and we change. We develop into these people. But do we give ourselves much thought into who we're developing into? Since when did that wild and crazy four year old become destined for a life of normalcy and complacency? I don't mean to harp and offend people who want these ways of life, but at the same time, I'm always getting told about mine. I'm sick of people pretending they want this way of life when they have never actually stopped and thought about the alternatives. And don't tell yourself you can't do it. There are so many ways of life and opportunities, don't put yourself into an invisible box.

Go open a ski resort in upper Canada. Go become a scuba instructor in Portugal. Go
open a hostel in Kenya. And if you have a person you love, great, bring them with you. And if what you want is a normal life, fine. But I want to say a little bit about what my life path is like for me. Before I go to bed at night sometimes I start freaking out. But then I begin by asking myself a question: Do you want to come home every day to a cute house in a good school district with a nice husband who you have been with for 15 years and having arguments about where the ironing board belongs and who's job it is to drive the children to grandma's house on Saturday so you can "have the day off" to go hiking and camping for one night for the first time in at least month? No. Because I'm the kind of girl that looks for flights to Peru on a Tuesday. "What does that mean?" you may ask. What that means is that I don't want to go hiking one weekend a month, that means on Tuesday afternoon I want to be able to hike to the top of a volcano and look down at a place and be able to point out the building where I implemented the women empowerment program or installed solar panels. Do I think I will at one point be failing at my journey? One hundred percent. Do I think there will be a time when I just want to have this normal life? Completely. But I've also told myself no. A firm, brutal no. Because I want volcanoes in Peru on a Tuesday far more than a PTA meeting.

So no grandma, I can't quit being a vegan and settle down. I really just can't.