I expected to have the same friends my whole life. 

I expected to graduate college at 22, get married at 25, and be well into motherhood by 35.

Obviously, I expected to fall in love somewhere in the mix.

I expected to work in my field of study, climbing the corporate ladder all the way to a Director’s position.

I expected to own a home in San Diego.

I expected my family to stay together and for our obsession with one another to only deepen as we grew older. 

I expected my grandparents to live forever.

I expected to stay rooted (professionally and financially) when circumstances shifted, like say, during a global pandemic.

I expected to stay fully self-employed when I quit my job earlier this year.

And I expected the transition back into work to be a lot easier than it has been. 

I expected life to look very different than it does.

I could probably sit here and pen, at least, 1000 more expectations I’ve held over the course of just the last decade.

All to drill home the point that I have expectations.

I shared a conversation with my mom earlier this week about some of the difficult, but grown-up conversations I’d been navigating and just how revealing some of my recent travel and conference experiences had been. They highlighted areas where the lens with which I’d been viewing relationships was stained by this foundation of expectation I carried with me wherever I went. Formed from this base layer of hurt, I’d found myself building upon it, brick by brick. And it wasn’t working anymore.

I’m almost certain I could pinpoint the exact moment I realized it wasn’t working.

The exact moment I woke up and realized I needed to sift through the bricks and locate the base layer. 

And sadly, after years of expectation knowingly, and unknowingly, running the show, that realization was only a few short weeks ago. 

I joined a coaching certification program last month and as a part of our initial group conversation, we dove into a discussion on the difference between expectation and expectancy. And about how the source of expectation is often times unrealistic. Or how it may stem from our desires to emulate, please or live up to someone.

You see, expectation comes with a pressure that can keep us from gratitude, and intimacy (with self and with God). It can keep us from peace and contentment. While expectancy, on the other hand, is an assurance that God can do whatever He wants, in me, through me, around me. It’s coming into agreement with it. Knowing things will grow right here, right where my feet are, right in this moment. And I can’t wait! 

Ooof! The conversation was powerful, emotional and invasive lol

I hung on to that first session.

I chewed on it for days.

Because it was the first time I stopped to consider how mixed up my views on expectation and expectancy were. How often I confused the two. How often I made an idol of expectation. How often I blamed expectation for what may have really been expectancy, and vice versa. 

But also, because it’s been something I’ve struggled with for so long.

Instead of continuing to use expectation as an excuse or a crutch I use to pacify my behaviors, I wanted to understand more about my history with expectation.

Where did it come from? When did it start?

That baffled my mom almost as much as it baffled me.

We spent the evening trying to locate the beginning of my relationship with expectation.

My mom said I was aware of it in high school, when I wouldn’t commit to programs or after school clubs because “they expected me to be all in 100% and I have other extracurricular activities.” 

We moved to middle school, where it was present too. Teenage Monique, bothered by the expectation that her dad would travel with her competitive cheer squad to competitions around the country, and he didn’t.

We moved from elementary school to preschool and finally felt halted around age 4. In fact, at age 4, my mom shared some of her expectations for me that I clearly could care less about (i.e. she expected me to walk down the aisle at my parent’s wedding without crying….HA! That didn’t happen…so clearly, I didn’t have the same expectation, right?!)

I wonder if I struggled with expectation prior to that age.

I look at my great niece now and wonder if she struggles with it at 5 years old, or if she ever will. 

And because of those curiosities, I’m thinking about the possible correlation between genetics and expectation. Is expectation a completely learned thought pattern, or do we get a sprinkling of it passed down through our lineage?

Surely, we soak up a portion of the societal expectations that choke us from the moment we pop out of the womb:

• Child is expected to walk, talk and be potty-trained by a certain age
• Teen is expected to graduate high school and go to college, or join the military
• Adult is expected to graduate college by 22 and immediately get a job in their field
• Woman is expected to marry in their 20s and have children in their 30s
• Adult is expected to retire in their 50s and enjoy life (…said no one in California! lol)

The problem I’ve experienced with societal expectations that are associated with age is that when you don’t hit those benchmarks, and you get hit with all of the “what’s wrong with you”-insinuated questions, it reinforces the expectation and thus thrusts people into 1) shame or 2) rushing or making moves in their own strength instead of resting and trusting in a plan that might not fit societal molds. 

I broke all the molds, honey. 

I may have walked, talked, slept and been potty-trained on time, but again, after age 4 – psssssssh – those societal expectations were mine to bulldoze.

I graduated high school, went to junior college and worked my booty off. 

I got my AA at 23 and my Bachelors degree at 25. 

And at 37, I’m still praying for my husband and children.

I no longer work in my field of study, but instead, am both fully employed and self-employed running a company that was birthed when I was laid off of my job during a global pandemic.

My grandparents are no longer here to see how life is unfolding, 

And my broken family is being glued back together slowly but beautifully.

Life looks NOTHING like I expected it to, but I’m coming into agreement with whatever God wants to do,

in me,

through me,

around me,

right here,

right in this moment,

right where my feet are. 

Expectancy is mine.

And somehow I know everything’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.