Last week I officially turned 24!
I’ve never been big on my own birthdays, but something feels a bit different about this one. Maybe it’s just that 24 seems like some new level of adulthood at which I thought I would surely have all my ish together. Nw that’s not entirely the case, but I did recently place a sizeable order at Williams-Sonoma, so that’s got to count for something.
Every year someone inevitably asks, “How does it feel to be [insert new age here]?” And each year I think about how I feel exactly the same. I typically end up working on my birthday, so it truly feels just like any other day. Though I don’t feel different one day to the next, I think back to the version of myself that was turning 23 and everything has changed. Now I still have the same job and I still live in the same city, but I myself am not the same.
I don’t even know what it is, but 23 has felt like a monumental year. I’ve touched on this in some of my previous posts, and if you know me, you know. It has been a year of high highs, my lowest lows, and everything in between. 23-year-old me cried more than any previous version of myself, and 23-year-old me had to start scheduling more frequent lash fills–I won’t say those two things are unrelated.
The turning-23 version of myself was so (somewhat naively) happy. She was falling hard for someone and she didn’t yet know real heartbreak. Occasionally I find myself wishing I could go back and be her again. But the turning-23 version of myself didn’t know how strong she could be like the turning-24 version of myself does. She didn’t quite know vulnerability or resiliency. She had never cried at the gym, but she also had never been to Hawaii. In fact, she was intimidated by the thought of going to the gym–not realizing that hey, this girl can deadlift–and hadn’t yet found that badass boxer inside of her. She didn’t yet know the feeling of being happy with the body she lived in.
Recently I took a step back to evaluate my life, and I’ve been thinking a bit about the things I would like to accomplish within the next year. First of all, I think it’s finally time to stop comparing myself to the imaginary life I never had. There is no such thing as “by this age I should have gotten married” or “I was supposed to be making XYZ salary by now.” It’s OK that so many of my peers have kids or are buying houses while I am buying fake plants and renting a house with roommates.
It’s ok to simply be in a place where you can say I’m doing the best I can with the situation I’m in–not just now, but at every stage of life. This. Is. OK.
So my goals for this next year of my life do not include anything like get married, buy a house, or have a baby. Instead, I want to take a step forward in my career. I’m not entirely sure what that specifically means yet, but I’m going to figure it out and make it happen. I want to take an international trip or two; it’s been far too long and I’m getting restless. I want to be better about cooking, improve my deadlifts and box jumps, and finally be able to see my abs. I’d like to live on my own. Finally, I hope to continue choosing to be happy with my life and keep my heart open to new friends, relationships, and opportunities.
Here’s to being 24!
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