At 18, I was in college for the wrong reasons. No more high school girlfriend. No clear goals. No interest in academics. Socially paralyzed. Depressive.

At 19, I came home and started my career in IT. I was eager to appear to be mature and confident in a job surrounded by people twice my age…but I think I came off as more of a lanky, quiet kid with bad hair. Looking back, I think my life at that point could have easily headed down a number of paths — some disastrous — and I’m thankful that I ended up on the track I did.

At 22, I was a metal band front man with stage fright and writer’s block. We were together for about a year and a half and played all of 4 or 5 shows. We had some great stuff, but there wasn’t a whole lot of inspiration to go around. Even if there was, I couldn’t see it.

At 25, I met her and got engaged…for the wrong reasons. I didn’t know who I was, although I was definitely becoming something new. I found in myself what I hadn’t wanted to see. I saw much of the same in her, and more. I was able to deny both…for a while.

At 28, she left and conceived a child with my best friend. Now I really didn’t know who I was. It took 6 months before I realized how fortunate their departure had been. It took another few months to realize why everything seemed to be fitting into place, making so much sense…

At 28, for the first time in my life, I’m satisfied with it. At 28 I recognize myself. At 28 I’m who I was before the soft cruelty of elementary school, the ravages of adolescence, and the meandering self-denigration that was my young adulthood each had their turn.

It’s about time.