The Next Five Years: Big Changes, Bigger Dreams

If you told teenage me that by 2029 I’d be married, living with the love of my life, and finally having the surgery I’ve waited years for, she probably would’ve laughed and then gone back to fangirling over JLS and obsessively tweaking her Bebo profile. But here I am — thirty-something, engaged to my very own Superman, and staring down five of the most life-changing years of my life.

Let’s talk about it.

1. The Surgery That Might Change Everything

This one’s scary and exciting in equal measure. I’m officially on the NHS waiting list, and even though the nerves are REAL (like, I have cried about it at least five times this month kind of real), the idea of walking without constant pain? Of not needing a wheelchair just to get around the supermarket? Of holding Myron’s hand while we stroll somewhere instead of him pushing me? That makes every second of fear feel worth it.

I don’t know exactly when the operation will be — NHS waiting lists are their own special brand of chaos — but I do know I’m doing this for myself, not to myself. And when recovery comes, I’ll embrace it, stims and all.

2. Moving In With Myron

We’ve waited years for this moment. After all the ups and downs, long-distance calls, movie marathons squeezed into weekends, and the constant ache of wishing we had more time together — we’re finally building a life under one roof.

I know it won’t all be rainbows and freshly baked cookies (although Myron does make a banging stir fry), but I can’t wait for the everyday moments. The lazy Sundays. The shared playlists. The way he just gets me, even when I can’t quite explain myself out loud. I’ve never felt so seen — or so safe.

3. The Wedding of My Dreams

Yep. It’s happening. 2030.
I’ve got the date saved. The Pinterest boards are overflowing. The theme? Us. Quirky, nostalgic, a little chaotic in the best way. No bridesmaids. Just me, Myron, and the people who’ve been there through it all.

We’ll be honouring some very special people — my best friends Katie and Sadie, and my grandparents. There’ll be tears. There’ll be laughter. There’ll probably be a High School Musical lyric or two hidden somewhere in the vows. And most importantly, there’ll be love.

The Bottom Line

I’ve spent so much of my life waiting — for the pain to ease, for people to understand me, for things to feel stable. But now, I’m not just waiting. I’m moving forward. Towards independence, togetherness, and joy I fought tooth and nail to reach.

The next five years are big. Life-altering. A little terrifying. But they’re also mine. And I’m going to make every second count.

Actually Asten