Guilt is like a bad penny in my life: it just keeps popping up.

When some of my high-school classmates were content with working 9-5 jobs, going to some city college or online university, only until such time that they snagged their highly-anticipated husband, father of their children and provider as they stay-at-home mom those little ones, I was hustling at a top university trying to graduate at age 20 with the best G.P.A. When these same classmates were well into repopulating the world, I was breaking my back in law school and clerking at firms, all in an attempt to attain that invaluable experience which would set me apart in the legal jungle. At the ripe old age of 23, I was a lawyer starting my own firm. None of this came easy--in fact, all-nighters with appellate briefs and complex motions  coming out of every orifice of my body were the norm. Now, at 28 and with almost 5 years of legal practice behind my belt, it's a little bit easier and a little bit rosier. 

So, should I feel guilty then about having a comfortable lifestyle? Should I regret the Louboutin purchase or reconsider my next vacation and ordering room service, several times?  What about that spur of the moment spa treatment? One would think not, but, the nasty thing is that I feel guilty--a lot. I can't quite put my finger on it as to why, but one thing's for sure, it's been really getting to me lately.

Every time I want to retreat into the quiet, peaceful comfort of my little world, I'm jolted into perceiving this guilt "thing." A comment or two from a friend or encountering the outstretched hand of the homeless man on the street, a Gospel reading in church or just driving through a less-affluent area of town--I'm constantly reminded of the deep, real divide between the haves and the have-nots--and now I'm finding myself on the uncomfortable side of the haves.

But, to be honest, this guilt thing tends to be a little ridiculous and, frankly, I've had it! It's just not healthy to be dwelling in these thoughts because they serve no purpose. I know I try to be a good person. I donate money to charities and organizations that help those have-nots. I help my friends out, often. I'm always more than willing to be that "person for others." This isn't the middle ages: I'm done flogging myself this way over what I have.

It's not wrong that I chose a path less traveled and it's not wrong that I'm happily trudging along down this road. I'm done beating myself up over the fact that I'm not stretching every dollar to make a mortgage payment or trying to save here and there for diapers. I'm done feeling bad because I drive a nice car and stay ten feet away from public transportation and I'm over the pangs I feel when I go out for dinner every night of the week instead of slaving over the stove. That's it. My life is what it is because I worked extra hard for it. I've not stepped on anyone on my way up and have struggled and toiled all on my own. I've no remorse or regret over how I got to where I am and I'm newly recognizing that this guilt nonsense is only hurting me.

This is not to suggest that I'll be abandoning all sense of humility, meekness and charity. I assure you that I won't turn into a narcissistic buffoon who only paves her way into hell. No, that won't be me. But, I will take strides not to want to crawl inside of my own body cavity every time I hear a story from a friend about his or her plights with job/family/housing/dating.

Just as I hate carrying around change--and pennies, in particular--I won't let myself pick up this guilt thing anymore!