I have recently been reading a mediocre set of fantasy novels. They are not well written, in my exacting opinion, though neither are they terrible. But one topic that almost always comes up in Victorian-era female-protagonist books is the place of women in such a society, molded into a version of perfection with almost no opportunity to choose for themselves.
Strangely, reading these books follows the beginning of my own exploration of my choices, and finding that unlike they say, there really aren't as many choices as they sell you when you are part of the "rising generation." Only a few weeks ago, I realized that I no longer know what I want out of life. Once upon a time, I wanted a career as a veterinary surgeon. But when I finally graduated, I realized that what I wanted more than anything was to serve the Lord. I decided that I couldn't continue a career path that would require so much debt when I hoped to have a family.
When I was twenty-five, I married someone I thought loved the Lord. Due to circumstances beyond my control, it ended only a few long years later. In the time since, I have realized that despite the difficulty of parenting alone, I will probably not have the opportunity to marry again. Also, the need to provide for my family closes the scientific career path I had hoped to pursue. So, I am left with no more personal goals.