I’m sure like many others the answer is worrying. I can’t
remember a time when I didn’t worry, and as I get older I like to trick myself
into believing that I worry less but it is a fine balance.
I do worry less about what people think of me, well let’s
clarify that; I do worry less about what SOME people think of me. About having
friends that fit the right mould , but I worry more about having friends that
support my family and ones that I can have fun with and not be judged by.
Carer wise I worry less about the perfect job, and the
corporate ladder than I did even five years ago. I want to do something that
makes a difference and be doing something that will have a lasting effect, and
while I’m not doing what is my perfect job yet, there is a goal and when I
reach it I will cross this all off the “worry list”.
My parents are high on the worry list, and have been their separation.
Will Mom ever be truly happy? Will Dad find someone else and if he does will
she at least be older than me! Ha ha! Will we finally get to a place as a
family where they can be in the same room with each other without one or the
other feeling awkward and then feel the need to call me after and tell me about
it.
Where the worry metre goes up is with my kids of course.
Will they grow up to be happy and productive, and is there something I’m doing
that will ruin them for life that I don’t know about now but will see perfectly
in hindsight? How do my husband and I teach them how to be strong, independent
young men as well as boys who have an emotional intelligence to them as well. I
intensely worry about my husband, our relationship and how to keep a marriage
happy and healthy when the world around you is often neither of those.
My mom is a worrier so maybe it’s an inherited quality? Or
maybe I just need to someone to blame for my shortcomings. I am forever wishing
that I could worry less . . . add it to the list!
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