What can I say about the year I spent being 24?
It wasn’t the greatest year.
It wasn’t the worst year.
It was most definitely a growth year.
During my 24th year of life I was stretched in ways that I did NOT anticipate.
I spent a full year living outside of my parents’ house, living in my own room, and paying the bills out of my salary (not my student loans or my parents’ support). I took full full full financial responsibility of myself. I bought a new car. All major milestones, I suppose. Little moments where you pause for a second and think My, how very grown up I feel in this instant.
The Fall of my 24th year was spent in a hazy confusion. Days spent struggling in the classroom, nights spent staring at a webcam, moments of escape to eat burgers and listen to jazz on Wednesday evenings. Wanting to love my job but feeling so helpless. Wanting to love and trying my hardest to make long distance work.
Something clicked around January. Things started to fall in place at work, and out of nowhere, I apparently improved a lot. Something else clicked in March or April, and things started to fall apart in my relationship.
The last quarter of the 2010-2011 school year was one of the loneliest times in my life. On a break in the relationship, but not wanting to tell most people about it. Not letting myself cry to anybody about it. Working myself to death as I took on new leadership responsibilities. Feeling like I needed to just be an adult and not fall apart. Contemplating uprooting my life and moving to New York, because everybody else seemed to have a reason to move away. Becoming single.
Summer was alright. Work, but at more of a research-y, macro level of education. Two weeks of downtime. Mexico. Being in a wedding. Fun with friends. Saying goodbye to friends.
Then Summer was over and it was time to turn a quarter of a century old.
Life tends to throw a lot of things at you at once. Some things are great, like a fabulous new group of 9th graders, or a 25th birthday celebration. Other things aren’t so great, like workdays that last from 6:40am-8:00pm. Or your recent ex-boyfriend dropping the bomb that he’s now in a relationship. Or the fact that you’ve maybe just ruined a relationship through trying to define it. Or the fact that food’s losing its appeal and you’re losing pounds a little too quick. But what can you do? You’re an adult. No matter what, have to get up the next morning and wash, rinse, repeat.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to be 25. Because clearly… 24 was not poppin.
The happy parts were the trips (Seattle, Tahoe, Mammoth, Paris, Ojai, Mexico, and yes, Wisconsin). The meals with friends. Getting love branded on my body. The laughter. But man. My last week of being 24 was one of my worst weeks of of my life. I haven’t been that overwhelmed in a long time and that overworked EVER.
Anyway, here’s to being 25. To doing what I’m doing (age quod agis!). To waiting for what’s next.
There’s no time for tears!
(Don’t feel bad for me. Just help me get to the next phase, please.)
