College grad, feeling 22 and optimistic.
I wasn’t raised to be “big” on holidays but I just love the holidays. I love the red Starbucks cups and the twinkling lights on Christmas trees and crackling holiday scented candles and candy canes and hot chocolate and finding the perfect gifts and just everything.
It’s crazy how much everything has changed in just three months. I didn’t plan any of it and didn’t want most of it but strangely enough, I’m happy with all of it.
I truly contradict myself sometimes. One minute I’ll be like “I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks about me or my decisions, suck it” and then the next I’ll be like “Wait, don’t judge me, I’m scared.” And maybe it’s just because I’m scared myself. I’m afraid to be happy. I’m afraid to feel something different and to let the world know about it. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t need to post my every emotion on to Facebook (oh wait, that’s everyone else on my damn newsfeed) or to Tumblr or Instagram or whatever. As a social media queen, this is obviously a difficult feat for me. Maybe I’m just moving on and learning about myself and what I want and all that shit you’re supposed to figure out in your twenties. Cool. Now I don’t feel so weird.
Everything is going well but that doesn’t mean everything is easy. I wake up some days happy as a clam and some days I wake up nostalgic and buried deep in my thoughts. I think I need to stop revisiting the past and trying to paint a different picture. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in a good place right now; I just can’t help my mind from wandering. In all honesty, at the end of the day, I’m happy with my life and where it’s going. Really happy. I just need to continue to focus on the positives instead of developing the negatives.
I’m a firm believer that actions speak louder than words.
Don’t tell me something. Show me something.
I talk all the time. I say things I shouldn’t, I say things I don’t mean, I say things to get a reaction. I don’t always trust what I say. I trust what I take my time to show someone.
I think I spend entirely too much time caring about people I don’t actually care about. Does that make sense? I waste my energy on worrying about things I can’t change, people I can’t change. I need to take that energy and put it toward those I do genuinely care about, people who care about me, people who have my best interests at heart and vice versa. I’m too good to let stupid shit get under my skin.
I’m really happy with the people I choose to keep close to my heart. I’m so lucky to have so many close friends, so many people I know I can truly trust with anything. I think that’s one of the best feelings in the world.
I think one of the most prevalent lessons I’ve learned in the last few months is that it’s okay to say no.
It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to say you’re not interested. It’s okay to say when something doesn’t serve your best interest. It’s okay to say no when you’re uncomfortable with something, some place, or someone.
I find that I put so much pressure on myself to get out of my comfort zone, to get to know new people, to make different decisions…and don’t get me wrong, I enjoy doing all of those things most of the time. But sometimes I’d rather watch Gossip Girl, in bed, by myself, than go make nice with people I’ve known a couple months. Sometimes I’d rather have one drink and call it a night than try to drink everybody under the table. Sometimes I just want to take a moment, an hour, a night just to sit around and be sad or bummed out or whatever I wanna be and I don’t owe an explanation to anybody.
It’s okay to say “no, I don’t want to be your friend.” It’s okay to say “no, I really have zero interest in even having the first cup of coffee with you.” It’s okay to say “no, you actually don’t get to talk to me like I’m a scathing idiot because I made one stupid mistake.” Whatever the case, whatever the issue, I’m finally figuring out that I don’t need to please everyone all the time. It’s kind of liberating.
In the process of figuring out the person I am vs. the person I want to be.
Figuring out what can fall under the category of ‘being young and stupid’ vs. ‘being stupid.’
Here’s to making decisions that, in the grand scheme of things, really DO matter. Twenty-two is still so young, but I’m getting older every day.
Thinking about the past is probably one of my favorite things to do nowadays. Not necessarily dwelling on the past, but just thinking about it. Thinking about a day or a week or a small chunk of time in my life where, although I didn’t realize it at the time, everything was changing. I was defining myself, for better or worse. I was having the time of my life, and I was completely broken.
Sometimes I forget that I’m only 22 years old. Sometimes I forget that making mistakes and feeling stupid is only natural at this age (or any age), and sometimes it’s kinda fun. Sometimes I forget that I am my own person and I shouldn’t live in fear of someone else’s opinions or judgement. That doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon any and all sense of dignity; it just means that I want to think freely.
I used to write a lot more in this. Personal stuff, happy stuff, sad stuff. But in all honesty, I don’t like everyone knowing my business. I don’t want everyone’s judgement on my life, what’s been going on, what hasn’t been going on. What’s different. I respect people that can. I guess I just prefer a little mystery. I like to keep people guessing. And in case anyone was running a survey, I’m in a good place right now. I’ve got some pretty great people in my life, great opportunities, and a great attitude. I’d say I’m actually pretty set.
A lot of things are changing around here. Good things, great things, different things. None of it’s bad, some of it sucks, and I’m doing that whole thing I do where I want to embrace change but I have a nervous breakdown in the process of it. I get excited for it, but then I yearn for comfortability. Time is just whirling and I’m standing still. One week ago I was leaving Bulgaria after a three week journey in three different countries and now I’m back to the homeland, packing up my favorite apartment to move back home until I figure out what’s next. In less than two weeks I’ll be packing up my boyfriend and moving him to another state which is great and I’m excited about it and for him but I’m sad, too. I guess I’d be surprised/appalled if I wasn’t a little sad. But here’s to new opportunities, new chances for growth, and the beginning of the realization that I am fucking 22 years old and I am truly an infant in the grand scheme of life.
It throws me for a loop how quickly two years went by, how quickly college went by, and how quickly the days pass in general. I feel like I’m always waiting for the future, to get to Friday, to get to my next day off work, because I believe that those will be “better days.” It’s annoying. I want to make a little bit of every day something to look forward to. I don’t want to wish time away, and I don’t want to slow it down either. I just want to enjoy the days more with the people I love. I want to read books again, and bake, and take day trips. I’m gonna start doing just that.
There are few things in life that make me as happy as new pajamas.
Actually, that’s a complete lie. There are plenty of things in life that make me just as happy as new pajamas make me, but I happen to be wearing new pajamas and I like them so it’s all I can really think about at the moment.