When I was about fifteen, I had it all sorted. I was going to go to university, meet Mr Right, get married and pop out a passel of cute, curly haired, mega-talented kiddoes.
Even at Durham, aged 24, I'd tell long elaborate stories to Naomi, detailing all the wonder that was to come. 'All This At 35?' the headline would blare.
But you can't predict the future.
I've let go of a lot of things.
A few, I think I always knew were pipe dreams - living in New York, writing a bestseller, going with Leonardo DiCaprio to the Oscars (my over-active imagination is nothing if not ambitious!).
Others I saw pass like a breeze, ruffling the fabric of my life....married by thirty, becoming a lawyer, throwing myself into drama. It took a moment to realise they'd passed.
And now, at 31, I think I'm starting to appreciate why I had to let these things go. Because so many of the blessings that fill my life were never really on my radar. Who would have predicted I'd adore teaching little boys? That Join Me would bring me friends and love and laughter? That blogging would become such an outlet, a place to truly be myself, the reflect on the magical jouney we call life? That I'd join the Junior League and meet myriad kindred spirits? That I actually would end up living in London (one of the pipe dreams that did come true!)? That I'd fall in love with a man who challenges me and loves me and understands me?
It seems like sometimes letting go is exactly what you need to do to gain some real loveliness.