When I was 16, I had a very different picture painted in my head of what I expected my life was going to look like at 30.

Back then, I was still teetering between being a doctor (what my parents wanted) and fashion design (what I wanted). I thought I was going to attend an Ivy League. I wanted to be married by 30, live in a big house with a balcony, white picket fence and swing in my yard.

Fast forward to the real world today and I am a doctor, but not that kind of doctor. My parents wanted me to be bác sĩ but I ended up being a doctor of pharmacy instead. They still can’t figure out the difference no matter how many times I explain to them I can’t diagnose. But they’re accepting of my profession regardless which is enough for me. I’m not a [total] failure in their eyes.

I ended up backing out of wanting to go to Ivy League because (a) I didn’t want to pay for it and (b) I didn’t want that pressure. It’s a good thing I didn’t because it would’ve been a waste of money in my early years.

I did end up married and I have my own house but it definitely looks different from what I envisioned. You learn to compromise when house hunting because budget and damnit, buying a house is damn hard. Owning is another battle all its own once you’re in.

But what is all of this digression getting at?

Your life won’t always turn out the way you originally wanted. Sometimes it turns out better. It doesn’t happen without a few struggles and falters and tumbles, of course.

My mom still wants me on a certain path though as she continually reminds me that my “eggs are dying.” She’s not the only one pressuring me either. It seems the whole world is watching sometimes and nagging me as to when I’ll have kids. But the question isn’t when, but rather for me, it’s if. I know I shouldn’t say that out loud and give my mom a heart attack but again, at this current stage in my life, I don’t see it in the cards. Check with me in the next 5-10 years. It's also probably because I am the oldest in my family and since I have no kids yet, my mom feels like I'm delaying the rest of my siblings from starting families. Talk about pressure.

It’s funny because my family is very different from my husband’s. Everyone on his side has started having children already, his siblings and his cousins. I see them all and despite their happiness and feelings of fulfillment, it doesn’t spark any of that for me. All I see are another pair of shackles similar to my mortgage and student loans. I just see a money sink holding me back from my full potential if money were not an object. Do I feel like I’m falling behind? Absolutely not. As much as my mother stares at all these people around me having children and building families while I am not, it doesn’t fester any envy inside me. It does the total opposite, lol.

I’m not ready because I’m still working on my empire.

The funny thing is there’s so much I still want to do. And so much I still have yet to figure out. I just turned 31 and I still have no idea what I really want out of life when it comes down to it. I don’t know where I’m going or what I really want my endgame to be. Ideally I want to not live in NY the rest of my life. But I’m also scared to take the risk and jump. Pharmacy is practical but it’s not something I really envision doing for the rest of my life. I just know that I can do it.

But I also know that I am capable of more. I just don’t know what that ‘more’ is, exactly. And the particular more that certain people want me to do, I actually don’t want to do, as ironic as that sounds.

Sometimes I wish I had jumped on the influencer train sooner to monetize what I was already doing before IG hoes made it a career. But that’s a different topic altogether. Truth is, if there was no Instagram or huge social media platform, I’d still be running around planning and doing all these photo shoots and capturing moments of my life. I was doing it before social media took off, regardless of who saw and liked my photos. I do this because I love it. I’ve never “done it for the gram,” I’ve always done it for the shot. Because this is my art and what makes me feel alive. Even if I was the only one who saw the photo, I still wanted to capture the moment. Which is what started this blog, ironically. For years before Instagram was a thing, I’ve been dabbling in photoshoots with nowhere to really display all the photos I took. It all sat on my hard drive. I share a few here and there on IG, but here on my blog I can post full galleries of the entire shoot instead of just 1-3 shots. I finally have a nice way of cataloging my work and sharing it with those who want to view more.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this blog post, honestly. I’m just reflecting on life stuff as I turn 31. There’s also still so much I have to learn and un-learn. I’m still growing and still figuring out ways to challenge myself. It’s hard because growth requires a level of uncomfortability and that takes patience and time. Of which I’m not always willing to partake in, because I don’t like being uncomfortable. I know the end result is worth it but the struggle part is what scares me. I will get there in my time. I’m in no rush.

Remember your journey is your own, and that just because you haven’t checked off a certain number of boxes by the time you turn X age, it does NOT mean you are “unsuccessful” by any means. Timelines are unrealistic and sometimes boring. You need to rewire your brain and unlearn all of the societal and parental pressures looming over you. Write your own story and do things in your own time and pace.

In the meantime, I’m not allowing my age to stop me from being extra and dressing up fancy on a regular day for no reason. I hate when people ask me where I’m going like I need a reason to look nice. I always want to ask back, well why are you so poorly underdressed? I always found the following lyric to be a great life mantra for me.

“I don’t want my best dressed day in a casket.”

Until then, long live the queen of điệu.