Twenty-Five.
Twenty-five.
I turned twenty-five in January. It was a day I was anxious about for quite some time. Like no other age before. Suddenly, I would no longer be in the ‘fun’ part of my twenties. No, I would be on the other side – the adulting side. You know, the other side of the hill when you’re settling into your career and you have more responsibilities.
There are more bills to pay and you now have to schedule meetings with your friends, instead of just calling them up and telling them to meet you somewhere or asking if they want to come over. Life shifts.
It scared me, to be honest.
Even just hearing the number out loud freaked me out.
Was I where I wanted to be? Will I always be here? Where is here anyway? Is this what I had pictured for my life when I was young girl? What do I still have left to accomplish?
These were the things that kept me awake at night in the days leading up to my birthday. So many questions that for the first time in my life I didn’t have an answer to. I didn’t really know where I was going anymore or what I wanted. What am I passionate about? Who am I really?
I finally understood what everyone meant by mid-life crisis. Only it happened a lot sooner and would be known as my quarter-life crisis.
And then the day came. You know what? I was fine. And it was one of THE best birthdays I’ve ever had. I’ve never felt more love. More excitement. Possibilities. I felt like my dreams had never been stronger. Things had never been more clear in the midst of confusion.
That was January. Flash forward to now, December…Almost an entire year later.
I am on the verge of 26. Just three more months of being this age. Coming into my own. Discovering me again. Finding out who God has created me to be. Fumbling through tears and laughter, bear hugs and heart to hearts. And a lot of caffeine and Jesus. I have three months to finish what I’ve started. To finish plans. To start thinking up new ones. Whatever it is, I’m ready for it.
