I’m 26 years old today.
Third year, so I guess this is a tradition now…last year’s: http://sunshineinthecellar.tumblr.com/post/63033884678/im-25-years-old-today
I suppose that I will always be emotional and resent my woman genes for attacking my sanity time and time again.
At times I still feel too much for the inequities that makes life difficult for others, and for the smaller ones that complicate mine.
My childhood was temper tantrums, my adolescence was angst, and my adult life has granted me reality checks and cynicism,
i have not given up on life.
I’m 26. I spent the earlier part of my 25th year of life indulging in what a very important woman in my life called, “the year of what-if”. The end of a great relationship, and the start of a great new one. Clouded by social anxiety and a distinct inability to maintain many relationships at once, I forced myself to try dating—the classic, the old-fashioned way. I thought it would help me grow, socially. Honestly, it didn’t get any easier. I met some interesting people, but the best part of the experience is that I met someone that stuck. Really stuck. I mean REALLY stuck, in the best way I could possibly imagine.
Reading back to the things I found important to say in the past two years, I don’t have much of a response for them anymore. They’re either trivial, no longer relevant or important to me…details of the past that don’t need to be elaborated on any further. So I will shift the intention…put it elsewhere; I’ll delve into some new thoughts.
I find that there isn’t enough time to accomplish work and life. I struggle with the balance between both, and feel that without constant effort, I fall behind on the domestic part of life.
My new love has two 12 year old twin boys. I find myself thinking and saying things my mom said to me…things that went in one ear and out the other, until much later in life when I realized I had in fact retained much of it. I just couldn’t use it until I had grown…calmed down enough. I have trouble finding a successful way to communicate with them, and I find it an interesting experience to try. How does this happen? How come we can’t remember what words or method of explaining things would have impacted us at 12? It’s slightly infuriating.
I feel a bit of anxiety about getting older. It always feels as if I’m falling behind in some way.
Speaking of anxiety, I have no shortage of social anxiety. I recently attended a house party and couldn’t stay an hour. I have trouble nurturing and maintaining relationships, and tend to focus my love and attention on…one person. It takes an unsustainable amount of effort on my part to try to expand that. But I do try.
I am very happy with the way my life looks now—and I mean that aesthetically and deeper than that, too. From an attic room without a door, to a split one bedroom apartment, to sharing a room with my significant other, in a lovely little cabin. We have chickens (5). And the most precious little dog. And although I have no delusions about the permanence of any of it, it so, so sweet.
While I may not always be happy with my work, I was recently promoted to general manager of the company and have launched into a new chapter of my (career?). Adult stuff.
And finally, to remember him always—my Uncle Rob passed away two days ago. I’m from a very small family…beyond my immediate family, it was only him. Every holiday from when I was born until now, my Uncle Rob was there. He was so incredibly generous, and he loved us, and we loved him. We will always love him.
I’m growing up, in the most wonderful of ways.