I’ll never have legs like Chloe Sevigny.

I’ll never have eyelashes as long as my husband’s.

I’ll never stop thinking of my baby brother (now nearly 23, married, and a machine gunner [ack!] in the Army) as a chubby-cheeked six-year-old.

I’ll never be a good housekeeper.

I’ll never know how to charm people the way my mother in law does.

I’ll never kick my addiction to TV. (Oh, Bravo, I love you.)

I’ll never be as kind as my husband.

I’ll never get sick of pizza.

I’ll never feel 100% happy with my body. (Hmm. Think this one is related to the pizza?)

I’ll never ski as beautifully as my father.

I’ll never get a truly good night’s sleep.

I’ll never write as well as J.K. Rowling or Jonathan Safran Foer or Audrey Niffenegger.

I’ll never stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I’ll never be as accomplished as my mother.

I’ll never stop wanting a full set of good silver. (Dear god, silverware is expensive.)

I’ll never be able to tell my husband how much I truly love him.

I’ll never stop trying for all of these things.

—

What will you never do?