Quarter of a Century

“‘{ frt” – Maisy (walking across the keyboard)

I’ve been trying to write this for a few weeks. I’m not sure why it’s taken me so long to get it out. I mean, a quarter of a century should have lent to some culmination of knowledge to be reflected on – apparently, it’s harder to put it to paper than I thought.

I’ve started to get to know myself better. I’ve begun to understand myself as well. There are so many things I may never be able to fully grasp about myself, but I’m learning. Learning about yourself is an on going process. I could spend all my life soul searching and die still a mystery. Maybe that’s how it’s suppose to be though. Imagine the weight of the soul crushing feeling of understanding yourself completely. And if that didn’t kill you, there’d be no more reason to live anyways cause all the mystery in life would be gone.

I may not be able to understand a lot about myself, but I have come to accept certain things about myself. Like the fact that I’ll never be able to walk in a straight line.

Or in heels. God, I wish I could learn how to walk in heels. It’s just not meant to be.

There’s the fact that after 12 years of wearing shorts under my school uniform skirt every day, I lack the ability to sit like a “lady.” Josh usually has to remind me that I’m wearing a skirt/dress.

I don’t like to shave my legs. I will forever be freaked out by socks. Sometimes I have to open and close the door to the car 3 times before we can leave, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. My OCD is just part of who I am.

I don’t like to drink. I’ll do shots because they go down quick, but I don’t like to drink otherwise. I also know that I don’t know my limit when I do drink, and that my hangovers usually last at least 3 days.

I love to blow dandelion seeds everywhere, and I wish I had some in my own yard. Oh, and step on crunchy leaves. I mean, who can resist a crunchy leaf?

I burn like flame to paper in the sun, but I suffer from seasonal affective disorder and I need to be able to drink its rays in to feel good. Josh knows that on gloomy days I’m not going to be myself. 

I know that some days I need to be an iguana or a sad panda and crawl into my closet and cry. I’m a person living with depression and anxiety. I think this is my greatest sign of wisdom. I finally accepted it, got help, and am working on dealing with it. It’s an ongoing process.

I know that I miss the beach, but that I would never be able to move to the coast. My family is too important to me. This is kinda ironic considering I feel like the black sheep in my family, like I don’t belong or like no one really wants me around. I used to spend Christmas alone in my bedroom because I don’t feel like there’s always a place for me.

Speaking of Christmas, I still love the holiday like a little kid, but I get disappointed every year when it’s not as magic as it used to be. And my birthday, well it’s a big deal to me. It also usually depresses the hell out of me because people either don’t remember or don’t acknowledge it. 

I’m lazy. I lack motivation most days, but get out of my way when I’m on a mission.

I have stretch marks now. I hate them. They are ugly. They will never go away. But I have a healthy, beautiful baby because of them. So, I try not to hate them too much.

I like to cook, but I’m not very good at it. I like to sew, but I’m not very good at it. I can’t cut in a straight to save my life, and, being a perfectionist, it drives me absolutely crazy when paper isn’t straight.

And then there are things that I know about myself that I know are not so good things about myself, that I wish I could change. Like the fact that I need to be in control. Or that I’m stubborn. I can be selfish and judgmental. And I always need to be right, and I’ll argue with you until I make you realize that I am, in fact, right. I’m working hard to improve upon these, but it’s hard. I guess growing up is realizing that you do have flaws, everyone does, and trying to do what you can to improve upon yourself as a person.

Growing up – I’m not sure I’ve really even done that yet. Where did I think I would be when I turned 25? I figured I’d have graduated college, be married, and have at least one kid. Check, check, and check – I’m exactly where I figured I’d be. Yet, I’m absolutely no where near where I pictured, and I’m sure as hell not a grown up.

I’ve crossed stuff off my bucket list: have a baby, knit something other than a scarf, buy a house, make a quilt, and, the ever on going one, be happy. There is still just so much more to do though. I know that I need to keep stretching myself and exploring and doing new things. Change can be good – I’m slowly learning and accepting that fact.

I’ve been lost this year. I still haven’t found myself, but I know I’m on the right track. There’s still a lot of uncharted territory to discover. Maybe 25 will find me closer to where I’m meant to be. Life has thrown me a lot of curves, but I think I’m finally starting to learn to take them.

The greatest thing about where I am is Miss Ellabelle Louise. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to sit and hold her, to take in her cuteness, to feel her soft skin and smooth her dark hair. And her eyelashes – have I mentioned her eyelashes? They are heavenly little feathers on her lids, barely seen from the front, but when you’re looking at them from the side while she has her head resting against you – those little eyelashes stop the world. Being a mommy is everything I hoped it would be. It’s exhausting and frustrating, but it is happiness beyond anything I have ever felt. I’m so excited for my 25th year because there are so many new things to embark on with EB. 

Twenty five is suppose to be the silver anniversary. I’ve got plenty of silver hairs to show for my 25 years, and Miss Ellabelle is doing her best to add many more. (BTW, calling them silver does very little to make one feel better about the pesky grays). I’ve had these hairs showing up since I was 17, but there have been a lot more showing up since July. The grays don’t really bother me that much (anymore) just like the threat of wrinkles doesn’t inspire fear. In fact, I mostly dye my hair because I get bored and need to do something to change the way I look. I love the idea of grays and wrinkles. My favorite people have always had both – my grandparents, my parents, Josh. Plus, they both show age.

So many people are deprived of the privilege of growing old. Every line on my face and gray on my head is there because of time, because of experience. What else is there? I really feel disappointed in myself for not being able to be wiser. I know twenty five isn’t old by any means, and I know wisdom comes with experience which usually accompanies age. A quarter of a century is a big deal though, for some reason – I keep feeling like it’s a big deal anyways. So, why can’t I find my inner zen and reflect on some greater meaning. I guess you could really spend your whole life looking for some greater meaning and never find it. Or maybe, at half a century I’ll have some more insight into this. Or, maybe, I’ll still be just as lost and lacking wisdom as I do now.

Either way, here’s to more growing, more learning, more discoveries, more firsts, and more adventures. Here’s to 25 more! 

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