Marriage by 25. Network TV by 30. That was always the plan.

It sounded pretty great when I was 15. Of course, God and the universe had a hell of a different idea in store.

Hard lessons. Heartbreak. And a nice little detour to rock bottom with a slow rise to redemption.

25 came and went. I kicked off 30 with marriage vows and a huge promotion at work. I had everything I wanted.

A few short years later I was happy at home but exhausted– and confused– about my career. I asked myself, am I truly where I’m supposed to be right now?

That moment of reflection forced me to take a hard look at what I wanted. I had to get honest with myself and honest with God.

There I was, sitting in my pajamas at a ridiculous afternoon hour, sorting through photos. I decided getting lost in the closet was a better use of my time than laundry.

I take a moment to study my face, my body language. Each snapshot brings back a warm memory, albeit some more hazy than others. My friends and I smile brightly as we celebrate the final days of our innocence. Flash forward through college, multiple out-of-state moves, a couple of bad breakups and an awful decision or two. Sweet Lord time flies.

I take a minute to examine a few particular photographs. I look happy. Silly. Sometimes ridiculous. (Why the hell did I wear that?!) I try to remember what we were doing and how I felt. Some days were amazing and filled with adventure, love, spontaneity and crazy shenanigans. Other days the lines blurred and the light in me would fade.