As a twenty-five year old living in the world today, I spend a lot of time thinking about who I am, what I want to be and how to get there. It seems like as far back as I can remember there’s always been a next step that was planned for me. You go through all your milestones as a child: first steps, first words, first day of school, etc. There’s always the next step you’re working towards … you have to do well in high school to get into college, you have to do well in college to get a good job. And suddenly, you’re out in the real world and nobody feels the need to point you in any direction anymore. The decisions are up to you and that is both thrilling and terrifying.
You’re suddenly at the end of that yellow brick road and your options are wide and vast and … what do you do now? That’s the place that I often find myself in and I won’t pretend to be some sort of future-seer that has it all figured out. I honestly don’t and I have to remind myself that that’s okay. I’m suddenly an adult but that doesn’t mean the universe has decided to provide me with all of it’s knowledge.
We’re just playing a game in a way trying to win at life.
There are many things I know about myself: I know that I love wolves, I know how much my family means to me, I know that The Lion King is my favorite movie (that’s right, favorite movie, not Disney movie, just movie) and I know how awkward I am when meeting new people. I know I feel the most comfortable when I have a plan and a direction and a schedule to follow and I feel most anxious and lost when I don’t. So, with those small comforts under my belt I take on the world.
From the onset of puberty, I struggled with terrible acne — painful, red and impossible to hide even under make-up. It wasn’t until three years ago that I finally went to a dermatologist and took the heavy artillery to clearing my skin. And it worked. My skin has been mostly clear ever since I finished my treatment but it wasn’t without its side-effects. After I stopped treatment, I experienced severe hair thinning that made me feel super self-conscious. It took a complete year and a half for a) my hair to grow out so I could cut off the thinning parts and b) my hair to return to its natural (horse-like) thickness.
I had never thought that I was self-conscious about my looks when I was in middle school or high school. I never felt as pretty as the other girls in my grade — I
didn’t don’t know how to do my makeup, or how to style myself or anything else they seemed to know innately — but I also didn’t feel bad about myself. It wasn’t until college that I started to try things out and experiment with my style and fashion and looks and I felt very good about myself. (I fell off the make-up wagon while on my acne treatment since it left my skin so dry that make-up didn’t look good anyway.) Now, as an adult, I look back and I start doubting myself.
I read a quote somewhere online that I very much relate to: “I’m an adult, but more like an adult cat. Like someone should probably take care of me, but I can also sort of make it on my own.” This is especially true of someone who is still living at home (for both cultural and financial reasons). I actually sat down and mapped out some concept ideas for post and for the kind of blog that this is. I’ll be posting things as I try to jump back into the world of self-discovery and figure myself out because clearly four years of college is not enough to figure out your entire future (at least not for this girl.)
Until next time…