I used to think that life was happening to me. I felt swept along. Sit and do this. Now sit and do this. Now eat. Now sleep. Now do it all again.

You have to go to school. You have to have a hobby. You have to have a job. You have to go to college. You have to have a career. You have to get married. You have to be happy.

But it doesn’t work that way. And it took a huge change in “the plan” for me to really take to heart the sage words of a friend when I was about 29 years old.

I was unloading all my agitation from the week on her. My job sucked. People didn’t treat me with respect. This person insulted me and upset me. This email was too angry. I just wanted to stay in my townhouse by myself and cry.

Worse, I didn’t feel like I had made it anywhere in my life. I got through the checklist of shoulds in my early 20s and came out at almost 30 with a crappy job, divorced, and miserable. I was an author, but where was that even going? It was tough to make friends where I had moved because I didn’t get along with many people at work, and no one really had the same interests. I met up with a group to go salsa dancing a couple times a week, but again, it was hard to connect with people in a noisy club.

All she said was, “You know, you’re choosing this.”

I started to argue, but she was right. I chose to be affected by the emails and the general negativity where I worked. I chose to stay there because I believed I had no other choice (it was incredibly tough to find a position with my qualifications, not impossible, though). I chose to take insults to heart. I chose to be down about my marital status.

I lacked the ability to see a way out, though. So my choosing was always between this crappy choice or another one. It took another 5 or 6 years before I realized that the crappy choices had all left me behind, and I had to come up with better ones.

I had already chosen to be selective about who I dated and was focused on online dating to find the one. That worked well. My husband has been supportive and loving, and he’s grown and adapted along with me as life threw us some curveballs.

And the depressing job . . . One day, my mentor, Bethany, put in her two-week notice. I adored the team of tech writers that I worked with, and I had known Bethany the longest. I thought she was crazy, and I knew I would miss her. She had chosen to leave to start her own business. And my limiting beliefs: “She has young children. And no one respects writers. Everyone thinks they can do it themselves.” Evidence abounded at my current job. I hoped she would be ok.

A year later, we had major budget cuts, so all the senior staff was “let go.” I was relieved, but certainly in no position to figure out how to build a business and pursue my dreams. My daughters, ages 1 and 3, felt like huge boulders. I hadn’t recovered from childbirth yet (a previous back injury made it extremely difficult). I was physically worn down and weak. I was exhausted because little one didn’t want to sleep. I was angry and frustrated because big one was a strong, opinionated, angry monkey who didn’t yet know herself and her inner strength but wanted to be the queen. And now, that was “my responsibility” according to my limiting beliefs. I got myself into this mess. I had chosen to have children. I had chosen the crappy job.

My choosing has improved since then. I’ve chosen a career path that aligns more with my gifts and inner truth. I’ve chosen to love and enjoy my kids more every year because it was initially so hard. I didn’t think I could do it. I lacked time. I lacked patience. I lacked self-worth.

At the worst of times, I’m still exhausted, but I’m teaching the girls to be compassionate. If I am understanding when their moods and desires fluctuate, then they are more understanding with mine. If I teach them that certain things light Mommy up like writing and making things, then they celebrate them with me, just as I celebrate them and the things they love. Every day, I choose to be compassionate, understanding, and open about how I think and feel. Yes, I’m still honest with them when they are being little shits, but I talk about the behavior, not the person, and why that isn’t acceptable.

I don’t want them to think that something is wrong with them or that they have to follow a certain path without exploring their options. I often talk about choosing. I let them choose if they would like to clean the play room and have some hot chocolate or continue to play in the mess and risk me bagging up the toys when I need to vacuum. They are learning positive and negative consequences. And they are learning that they choose them with each action they make.

I hope that they are empowered by choosing. I hope that they consider the privilege of making choices, even when the options aren’t as good as they want. I hope they understand that each step chosen is one toward an amazing adventure that no one has been on before. And I certainly hope that they live and love with all their hearts.

Choosing has been an eye-opening experience for me, and I know it’s not over. I continue to consciously choose things that light me up so I can be the best me and the best mommy and wife that I can be. I choose my goals, and I choose to take steps to achieve them. Life no longer just happens to me.

Choosing to write, to help others write, and to pursue big things have all been game changers. The choice is mine to make. And I love it!