Living the Life I Wish I Had

My dream was always to wake up at 6 a.m. after a good night’s rest, go for a run with my flat-coated retriever, shower in a tidy, spacious bathroom, come out to a bright kitchen with a marble island and blend a colorful smoothie for my breakfast. I would enjoy my smoothie while reading and journaling. Then I’d drive to work in a luxurious hatchback sedan, spend the day meeting with clients, coming in and out of the office. Finally, I would come home to a brief checklist of housework chores. Then, I could end the day hanging out with my husband in our minimalistic living room watching something on our flat-screen TV.

Is this truly feasible? Not exactly, and especially not in this stage of my life. But it doesn’t mean I ought to wish away these years in anxious anticipation of the day when all this will suddenly come true—because, truth is, it probably won’t, and certainly not all at once. So, where did this dream come from anyway? This is the mental image I’ve constructed over the years from the influence of Pinterest, YouTube, and Instagram, as well as my friends’ lives, and my daily childhood schedule. Here’s where I could vent about the negative consequences of having unrealistic goals and expectations. But instead, I want to talk about something I’ve started trying to do. 

At the core of each dream is a reason, a driving force: “Why do I want this?” And most reasons are valid. Upon realizing this, I dissected my “perfect day.” Why does my dream day start with a run? Because part of me recognizes the value of exercise. Why am I wishing for a spacious shower? Because organized spaces yield clearer thoughts. Why do I want a breakfast smoothie? Because my body knows that it wants a healthy meal to start off the day. Why do I read and journal while I eat? Because I know how badly I need time set aside to reflect and worship. Why do I want an extravagant car? Because a piece of me hopes for a smooth, pleasant commute. Why am I wishing for a dynamic career? Because that’s the type of professional environment I thrive in. Why are chores part of my “perfect day”? Because I’ve experienced the satisfaction that comes from enjoying leisure time after accomplishing everything else. And why does my day end with TV and chill time with my husband? Because I know that the time that I spend with my best friend is some of my most well-spent time. 

Now, knowing that my “perfect day” is simply one that fulfills all these legitimate needs, I can build a more realistic agenda that, at the end of the day, leaves me with the satisfying feeling that I have been productive. I might not have a flat-coated retriever, but I can still schedule a daily workout. I might not have a glass door shower or floor to ceiling mirror, but I can keep the bathroom I do have clean. I may not have a marble island, but I can still choose to eat nutritiously. I may not have a fancy vehicle, but I can maximize my commute convenience, whether that means tossing out the junk in my backpack or wearing more comfortable shoes. I may not have my dream job, but I can switch up my study space for variety. My to-do list may never be brief, but I can enjoy the satisfaction of ticking the checkboxes when I do finish something on it. And I may not be married or have a flat-screen TV, but I can make time to socialize or snuggle up with my laptop to catch up on a show. And doing all that would make me feel pretty good any day of the week!

I may not have a gorgeous home with the modern aesthetic that appeals to me so strongly. Existing on this planet gets messy sometimes. I can’t have a dramatic soundtrack to accompany my life 24/7. And there isn’t a 3-D photoshop that makes the world around me look like my social media feed. But I can do little things, like making my bed, opening my windows, or picking a journal with a cute cover. I can’t have everything, but I can do my best with what I have. I can surround myself with pretty things and fill my life with pieces of elegance. Then, inspired by the lovely things around me, I can carry myself with grace and poise. And this is what I call living the life I wish I had.