Nothing Goes As Planned

Dear Universe,

I’m still swimming in the uncertainty of what the hell I’m doing with my life.

I want a plan. I want to know where I’m going. Who I’m going there with. How I’m paying for it.

And I know precisely… nothing.

I’m trying to accept that. Still. That this is just this phase of my life.

But let’s be real, Universe. You and I both know I’m not accepting shit – I’m kicking my own ass trying to force a plan into place.

Maybe I’m also realizing, though, that my life has just been a series of plans not going as planned, for better and for worse.

I planned to travel to Denmark for just a fun summer abroad and ended up falling in love with this place.

I met a boy in a bar and had no idea he would eventually become my husband.

I got to Denmark and thought I could use my degree to get a job, but ended up searching for a year before finally getting something completely outside of my field.

We decided we were ready to have kids only to struggle with infertility for two years. And when I finally got pregnant, I had a miscarriage. So I said “fuck it I’m going off the hormones and embarking on a drinking binge in Prague” only to finally get a positive pee stick a week later.

We thought we would never be able to afford a house and would be renting forever and then an estranged relative died and we inherited a house.

We wanted to wait a while before baby number two only to have a woops (a good woops, but a woops nonetheless).

I planned to stay at my job while building something more fulfilling on the side but the company I worked for went bankrupt.

All of my attempts at business this and project that failed or I shifted interest.

I thought saying “I do” meant for life but apparently that is not what that means.

Life literally never goes as planned.

So I can sit here and work my brain into overdrive trying to map out the next 10 years or even the next 10 steps and life is just going to laugh at me and say “oh, honey.”

I’m not sure where that leaves me, Universe. Somewhere between trusting and freaking the fuck out, I guess. Or one on one day and the other the next.

I’m ready for – if not a plan – a bit of direction. And yes, maybe even a bit of the peace I pooh-poohed before. This is exhausting.

Patiently (ha, OK, not so patiently) awaiting your next unforeseen turning of the tides.

XO – Bailee

August 22, 2026