Scattered Thoughts

With the race against my Biological Clock

I am on my way to touchdown thirties but yet I haven't figure out a thing about my future yet. I am still evolving and face setbacks in every points and I am quite fine with that actually. Because I have realized life is all about it's journey and the lessons we learn. I wish to backpack around Europe and pet every street dogs I come across. Learn to make Pizza in Italy and salsa dance with a spanish man on my arms. But along with that what makes me concern at times is that When will I have a child of my own in the middle of ongoing chaos? Do I actually want to become a mother? Will I ever be able to take care of a new life whereas I fail myself to pick me up when I hit rock bottom. Am I capable enough to bring a child into this world?The world which gave me nothing except misery? Would it be fair?

Coming from a family where both of my parents failed to set an example of upbringing perfection, I have my fear which every once in a while creeps inside my heart. Will I also become like one of them? What if my child resents me just like I do? What if I fail them? All these rationalities leads me to a denial state where I pretense to the world that I hate children. But in reality, they do touch your heart, they successfully can burn down your toughest barrier and melt them into butter with their giggles, gibberish words and unstoppable curiosity about anything and there's no argument on that. Today when a fishbone got stuck in my three years old niece's throat and the wailing of hers stirred me up in a way I cannot explain. Am I confident enough to be a birth-giver? To be frank in my perspective towards motherhood is, bearing a life for nine months is quite easy on the contrary of taking of them that too selflessly. And I am not ready to make that commitment actually. And I don't think I will ever be.