Listen, let me talk to you straight. I’m talkin’ real southern, sugar cane stalk and all, because there is no shame in my timeline. I am not sugarcoating a thing.

Let me lay it out, just as handwashed clothes with Ivory soap were placed on a clothesline to dry on a warm summer’s day. For years, I carried this quiet pressured weight wondering if tying the knot at 20 meant I was falling behind. Never spoke about it out loud. I let the thought settle deep. Often it showed up every time I caught myself measuring my life against somebody else’s highlight reel.