Expectation and the Wrong Australian

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that expectation is the root of all heartache.

And also usually the intro to a really great anecdote.

Enter my existence.

When I was six years old I had a split, yet very passionate, obsession with Coyote Ugly and Titanic.

Both wildly unsuitable film choices for a six year old, but they ended up being the foundation of many stupid things I’d do down the road.

What else could you want for your child?

This particular obsession helped me land on a very specific and unrealistic idea that I would grow up to meet an Australian man named Jack, work as a bartender, and eventually freeze to death in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Slap my ass and call me romantic.

Fast-forward to second year University where, fuelled by vodka shots and exam stress, I land at my favorite bar and against all odds meet the man that would fill in the blanks of my half-baked fantasy.

He was Australian, tall, gorgeous, difficult to comprehend, and his name was Jack.

All of which ticked the boxes and swung my vote in favour of taking him home.

A few hours later, once the task at hand had been completed, I handed him my phone so that he could enter his number and we could kick start the rest of our love story.

Buckle your seatbelts for the biggest plot twist of all plot twists:

When he handed me back my phone and my eyes landed on the screen I realized I was living my own personal brand of nightmare.

His name was Jake.

For thirteen years I held on to this expectation that ended up compromising one of the most important firsts of my life.

All because my ears are uncultured.

Was it good? No.

Did he make us listen to Marianas Trench the entire time? Yes.

Since that fateful night, I’ve had a very tumultuous relationship with expectation – most of the time resulting in feelings of disappointment.

I’ve found that things rarely pan out in the theatrical vision you hold for it, and how that impacts you depends on your commitment to expectation or the idea that what’s meant to be will be.

Trying to force pieces where they don’t fit will often result in detriment, but the knowledge that everything will work out because it has to gives you freedom to sit back and take the wins as they come.

It truly requires little to no effort.

Little to no heartache.

Little to no Josh Ramsay.

As sentient humans with goals and ambition, it’s hard not to attach ourselves to an outcome, but the idea that we wont be the people we are without reaching a certain benchmark by a certain time is self-sabotage.

You’ll get what you want or to where you want to be.

Eventually.

It’s almost guaranteed that it wont happen how you want it to, but it’s conversely likely that you’ll learn something about yourself, fall in love with a new vision, or find a great story along the way.

In the words of our lord and savior Bebe Rexha, “If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, if it's meant to be.”

EDITORS NOTE: Jake moved on to travel the world and become an Instagram sensation with his smokin' hot girlfriend who he shares an accent and basic comprehension with.

I have yet to die in a boating-related accident and could not make a cocktail if my life depended on it.