I don’t know what I want from my life anymore.
All I know, in this moment, is that I want to quit my job.
Honestly, what I really want is about two years of not working, just focusing on school, finishing what I started, finally getting that degree without the constant burnout of trying to balance everything.
Or maybe I want the opposite: to quit school, start a family, and pour my energy into something new, something that feels like it matters right now instead of someday.
But either way, it feels impossible.
And I’m so tired.
I’m tired of getting nowhere. Tired of feeling like every version of my life is a half-built bridge.
I should’ve been done with community college already. I should be closer to transferring, closer to something. But I keep circling back to the same spot, too broke to take a break, too burned out to keep going.
The worst part is feeling like if I fall, Hector won’t catch me.
That’s a support problem, and I don’t feel supported.
And I can’t keep being the one who supports both of us, emotionally and financially. I’m running out of energy to be the strong one, the planner, the “we’ll figure it out” person.
So here I am, standing at a crossroads — school, work, family — and I don’t have to make all those decisions today. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling the weight of them pressing on me every single day.
I keep reminding myself: I need to focus on what I need before I can focus on what I want.
And right now, what I need is to feel safe and steady in my choices.
With Hector, that probably means financial and emotional stability — but it doesn’t feel like we’re building that together. It feels like I’m carrying it alone. This doesn’t feel like a “dream move” season; it feels like a “survive and lay a foundation” season.
And sure, everyone says to wait until you have a little more stability before making big choices, but when does that actually happen? After I’m 30? After I’m too old to have a baby? After life has already decided for me?
I can’t fix his self-worth issues, or his dreams, or the way he measures his success. Those are his to own.
I can support him, but I can’t keep shrinking myself just to make him feel bigger.
And when I strip away all the noise, the guilt, the pressure, the what-ifs, the real question that keeps coming back is:
What would I choose if I trusted myself completely and didn’t have to manage Hector’s feelings?
The answer is simple.
I’d quit my job.
I’d do school full-time.
I’d have a baby.
I’d write a few shitty books while I’m “baking” the baby and doing class.
I’d build the kind of life that feels real and rooted, not rushed and reactionary.
And by the time that baby started preschool, I’d go back to work, because I’m not built to be a stay-at-home wife. I know myself well enough to know I’d need something of my own.
But that version of my life feels far away right now, like a dream I can see but can’t quite reach.
Maybe this is what standing at a crossroads really is: realizing that every road requires a version of yourself you’re still becoming.
