Adulting: Weddings

In 2016, I turned 25. 25! That’s a quarter of a century. I don’t feel old, probably because I am not old. I don’t feel like I am lacking in life, because I have a lot, a good job, a nice house and house mate, great friends and family. I know what it is like to be in a long term relationship, and can say that I am happily single. That said, I am hitting the age where many of my friends are getting engaged and married, and it is filling my social media fields.

Before I carry on with the post, I would like to say that I am really pleased for everyone. It is great news that so many of my friends are happy in their lives and relationships, and are taking the next step. It is nice to see so many joyous posts, full of pictures and sentiments of such great occasions.

While it is always nice to see these posts, there is an element of something that sinks inside when another new post appears on your timeline. I am reaching an age where many people are expected to get married, or make a life long commitment to another person. I am happy with my life, and don’t feel pressure or expectancy for this to happen, except, it would appear, from myself. I don’t feel sorry for myself, or look down on myself, but there is an element of why not.

This slightly shitty feeling is never nice. The fact it happens when someone else is experiencing one of the happier moments in their life makes you feel even worse. I will always congratulate people, genuinely and happily, but there is still a feeling of, well there is another person and the biggest decision I have to make in my life is which cop show should I watch on TV tonight.

I am happily single, as I have said. I enjoy my own company, and I don’t feel like I am missing out on my own. Emma and I have settled into a nice lifestyle, and I would at no point say I am lonely. I don’t want to seek or look for anything, because I don’t feel like I am missing it, but I am starting to wonder if I remember what it is like to be with someone, and whether this will ever happen again.

This is turning into a slightly over-dramatic post, and I don’t want to sound like I am a lonely weirdo wishing none of my friends happiness. I just wanted to share this odd feeling with you, I feel like it is adulting in action. My friends are growing up and adulting *better* or at a different rate to me, and that’s great, but still feels, well, odd.

 

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