A Quarter, A Fourth, A Partial Progression…But Fully Me.

On Tuesday I said I’d be back to reflect and discuss Project 25 and turning 25 and so I am here to do that. However there is less reflection on the former, which I am okay with because think throughout the journey of that I expressed often how I was feeling and how going through it was leaving its effect on me, so I don’t feel the need to really beat a dead horse. Maybe I’ll talk a bit more about it way down below  but the bulk of this post is actually straight from a late night attempt to bullet point and outline what I thought I was going to write in this post. Before I went to bed last night I sat down to prepare little things to go off of and instead ended up writing really honest feelings, which normally I’d be really scared to post but at the same time I feel like to some degree the point of a blog is to share those honest moments. Not that I don’t frequently share those things here with people but I often filter and edit, like most people do but I hit a point last night that I thought, “why don’t I just type this and post it?”.  So that’s what I am going to do, and instead of avoiding and belaboring it by rambling I’m just gonna drop below this point…



I am 25. A whole quarter of a century old. It feels monumental and then again not at all too. Granted it’s only been three days so I can’t really make a sound judgement yet but I am hoping it lives up to some kind of expectations. It cold be typical ones or random ones I’ve dreamed up or just surprise ones that I didn’t know I had until they happen. Just anything would be great.

I know at least that I wasn’t dreading it like most people my age so I don’t have to deal with the stress of being angry I’m another year older. However I looked forward to this and living under the stress of excitement could affect me just as much. The answer is more than three days out, that’s for sure.

Occasionally, when I really think about it, I like to treat my birthday like a personal “New Years”, with goals and resolutions that are truly personal and not shared. Little lists fill my head space and I try to mark off accomplishments I made and new things I’d like to tackle. There is something poetic about doing these really intimate things as your body and mind are biologically and chronologically aging from its initial start point.

In all the excitement of Project 25, traveling, wedding announcements, and working like mad I don’t know if I did much or made any new goals but I haven’t decided how that makes me feel yet. Part of me knows I’ve grown in lots of ways and reached new places in my growing as a person and that makes me happy and proud. But another part knows I let other things fall to the wayside and I became less good or productive in ways and the frustration that stems from that is almost enough to out weigh the good.

And like most things in my life it always comes back to being a supposed “adult” who isn’t exactly close to having her shit together yet. Realistically I know that it’s okay to take time and there is no real timeline to getting it all together or else you fail as a human. But at the same time that all sounds like some bullshit a parent, a too kind friend, or a therapist would say to someone they pity to make them feel better or to “encourage” them.

I don’t want anyone’s pity, especially not my own.

So here I sit venting to paper knowing tomorrow I plan to work on a blog post about turning 25 and “what it means”. I will likely talk about being humble but frustrated and okay but still so unsure and I’ll keep it as positive as I can without being obviously fake. Which all of that is 100% true, but it won’t be the side of me that is fed up and scared.

Turning 25 is just another dig into a place I didn’t want to be but am and therefore keeping it hapy and content so I save my sanity. It’s being ungrateful and grateful at the same time because, yes, my life could most definitely be worse but it doesn’t change the fact it isn’t fully what I want and I’m allowed to be bitter about it.

I’d never want to be 18-year-old me again but at least she had nice dreams and ideas of what 25-year-old me might be living and doing and loving. That girl…she had the dreams by the boat load. They were pretty unlikely and naive but they kept her going so that is at least something. I think the few things 25-year-old me and 18-year-old-me have left in common are things that will never really change, they are interlaced at the core of who I am. And for those things I am appreciative and positive. For the things lost at sea along the way, I can remember and morn and wonder “what if?” but dwelling is a recipe for eternal bitterness and while I’m allowing myself some I do not want to make it a forever friend that moves in and doesn’t pay rent.

You see, 25-year-old me is a little more hardened and realistic but she is also more educated and aware and determined. I never thought stubbornness was a trait I had but when you row for years against waves of a sometimes harsh sea you build up strength and a habit to not let go. I might not be as clear where the vessel is going, or where I want it to go, but by God it’s going.

I don’t really have “dreams” about my future or a rehearsed answer to “Where do you see yourself in X amount of years?” anymore. It’s not that I don’t think having those goals or ideas is important, it’s just that I’ve gotten sick of picturing things only to have little things insert themselves into my life, or un-insert themselves in some cases, and have to rearrange my picture. At some point my picture looked like graffiti on a really tired building and while that can be beautiful, it wasn’t appeal to me any longer. So at this point I’m living life like it’s a giant white board and my markers are documenting small ideas or potential dreams. They are not fully formal and not set in a firm structure so they can adapt better as my life does and as I, myself as an ever evolving human, do to.

I’ve lived 25 years, and while I can probably only technically recall memories from about 22 years, they’ve been good on average. It’s why my complaints are less than if only equal to my compliments. I have reached a milestone and I can’t be totally sure what it represents or means, but I am thankful for it. Yes, also annoyed and disgruntled at times, but ultimately I am a person that returns to positive thinking. I need to hope and believe in an endgame for myself that can rival the ones of my favorite characters. I don’t have a clear head-canon for what that looks like yet. Luckily, 25 is child’s play in terms of life expectancy these days so I’ve got time to write, re-write, and probably edit quiet a few times.


So….that’s what it’s like inside my head at times. Here was the space I wanted to give a small shout out to how fun and rewarding (?) doing my Project 25 was but in the grand scheme of things I don’t feel the need to expand. I feel kinda gross talking about how good it felt to do it and my experience when really I should just do it and shut up. Because seeking out a discussion feels like I expect a pat on the back for doing what I did and I don’t.

Long story short; it’s something I’ve always wanted to do and my approaching 25th birthday provided a unique and great platform to do it. I hope everyone gets an opportunity to do something similar or donate to causes important to them in their life because it’s one of the coolest feelings to want to help and know you can can go through with it. So yeah, it was great, we’re done, moving forward.

This is long enough already, but I do want to say that I am excited about what’s to come. Particularly because I don’t really have a clue what is to come. As far as this blog, I hope to pick up inspirations more often and to post more frequently but beyond that it’s more of the same. Just hoping that my rambles are somewhat interesting to people because I do enjoy writing them and sharing them here. So until inspiration strikes, I hope you have an excellent day, weekend, month! I mean spring is basically here so it’s hard not enjoy life with all this sun :)


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