I’ll be twenty-five in a few months. Twenty-fucking-five years old. My age doesn’t bother me as much as where I am in life. I imagined so much more for myself at this age. At 24, I really should have been either done or almost done with my Master’s in Psychology and should have been accepted into a Doctorate program by now. That gap year, has turned in gap years. I am literally shaking my head thinking about that.
Like I said, I imagined so much more for myself. No one is harder on me than I am on myself right now.
Sure I was done with college at the ripe age of 21, but afterwards my life became stagnant. It became super boring. Every day I question myself, and ask myself what am I doing, but for the most part I just drift through my days on auto-pilot. I’m not being present, and gone are the days of mindfulness. Aside from work and working out, I honestly couldn’t tell you what I spend my days doing because I’m just going through motions here. If I can say I’ve mastered anything, it’s being on auto-pilot, and I’m far from proud of that.
But I’m not here to have a pity party. I’m not that woman. I refuse to be that woman. I can not be that person that talks about things and doesn’t just do it. Those people get on my last nerve, and I think it bothers me more because it was as if I was like these other people, but I’m not. I’ve always known this, but now I realizethat from the beginning, the end goal always looks far away, but you don’t get any closer by just sitting there and wishing something will happen to you. You must be proactive about it. Nobody is going to hand you what you want on a silver platter, you need to get out there and make it happen. So I’m making it happen. I can no longer surround myself with people who just hope and pray for good to come their way without action either, I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t, y’all.
So far this year, I’ve made a couple of changes for the good. I started eating better, much better actually. I eat so well, now when I eat something crappy my body instantly starts rejecting it and turns on me. It’s quite scary at times, but eating healthier makes me feel so much better and I’m not as exhausted as I once was. I went from drinking at least two coffees/lattes a day, to maybe having one once a week. I also don’t eat out as much, and make most of my meals ahead of time. Meal prep Mondays is no joke. I mean, I still really hate quinoa, and prefer white rice, but my body thanks me for making a better choice.
I also started working out, regularly. I’m not losing too much weight, but the inches are dropping really fast and I can fit into my clothes much better. I no longer feel like a stuffed sausage in my clothes and I also no longer feel like I’m dying when I run. I can’t make that stuff up. All four of my cheeks are smaller, which is great because I look less like a chipmunk with two basketballs in my jeans– which is how I imagined myself for a while.. I was getting worried.
I now have some ideas of goals I want to accomplish by a certain time. It’s a [late] start, but I have to start somewhere. I don’t want to reveal some things yet, because I don’t want to jinx it, but once things start playing out more– I’ll write about it here. Just know some of it involves adventurous activities and me forcing myself out of my comfort zone. Don’t worry, I’ll visually document it. Hopefully I’ll get some kind of traveling mixed in there.. it’s good for the soul and for opening up your mind.
I think subconsciously I started really getting into blogging again because I knew I needed a change, and what better time than now. If not now then when? And writing has always been cathartic for me. I always come back to it. Don’t forget I have my Friday Five coming up tomorrow! I’ll try to get it in before midnight this time.. haaaaa. We’ll see.
Until next time..
All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson