Life: On Turning 26
What does it mean to be 26? Well, it means I'm going through a phase.
It's a weird, weird one. Not like when I was 9 and my outfit of the day (all day, every day) was tucking my shirt into my pants, even during bedtime. Not like the phase of talking to non-exisent people outside the living room window, at night, even though we lived on the second floor of the apartment complex. Not like high school, not like college, not like any phase that I have ever gone through before.
I don't sugar coat shit, but I'm also never looking for empathy. What I do love is telling my story, because every time I let go of a sad piece of my life, I'm getting over it. I'm moving on. Maybe there are others out there who also feel/have felt the same way I do. But man, oh man, the list of negative has piled and piled and piled up. The good has too, but for every good, you forget and just end up looking for the next good. The bad stick with you, getting caught in your DNA, it tangles itself until it's permanently at home in your memories. The phase I'm going through is a compilation of all the frustration that I've felt for myself and my family throughout my life, childhood, adolescent, and now as an adult, along with the frustration of them continuing to happen. Now however, living by myself in a city with no family, it magnifies the bad days by 100, and makes them even worse. It never stops. I've realized that shit can constantly hit the fan at every given chance and time, and will continue to, and that's life.
That's life. That's life. That's life. I think I've forgotten what it feels like to be truly hopeful, even if I'm not truly happy. I've forgotten what it feels like to let go, because humans are for some reason engrained to hold on to petty shit, even though it hurts them. I want to be happy. To be truly, unconditionally happy, with everything in my life, but events in life have just made me feel like it's extremely impossible. I think a part of me always knew it isn't possible. I always knew. But...when I was younger, I hoped for better, I always wished for much better. That's the point, right? We know that life will never give us everything we want, yet we still work for it. It drives us. That's not a bad thing, having that drive, because if you don't have a goal, have a dream you want to fullfill, what is life? It becomes this emptiness.
Damn, is that what it means to be 26?
Well...I really don’t know. I'm completely scared that I’m not going to end up being the person I thought I would be, but also completely scared I won't be the person I used to be. It's so weird and I know it's just a phase. I know it's difficult to deal with, not just for me, but for my friends and family who can see it. I don't want to be "negative," I'm just sad and worried, and tired of being sad and worried, 80% of my waking life. I just worry too much. So I've been trying to travel, to be gentle with myself, to not be so rigid with my body, my looks, my life. I'm 26 and I still have insecurities, but who doesn't? They never go away. Sadness never goes away. Hurting never gets any easier. Being human never gets any easier. But with age comes experience, and if that experience has taught me anything, it's that I know I'll be ok. I just gotta take a second to view the world at a different angle, like I used to when I was a kid. In the end, I know that I am already everything I thought I would be. I've worked extremely hard to be where I am at this moment in my life. And I will continue to work towards being an even better version of myself. But I'll remember to give myself a little break and be gentle with my heart. I am my worst critic after all.
In the end, THAT is what it means to grow a year older. It's the same shit (surprise!!) but that doesn't mean you have to hold on to it. Let it go. Goodbye to you, 25, goodbye to all the b.s., and goodbye to all the sadness I'm holding onto. I forgive you, life. Hopefully you'll love me, 26, and heres to gaining yet another year of knowledge and (hopefully) more happiness.