Having been just pushed into year 22 of my life without much say or preparation, I feel like the kid at the beach who just got hit by a wave and is now spending all her energy trying to recover and get the salt water out of her eyes.
Why is it that we link our life’s dreams to the age we “should be” when we want to attain them? Like, who taught us that because I want to find them, dig them up from their grave and yell, “YOU SCREWED US ALL OVER!” The fact that I am three years away from twenty-five and do not have a mortgage, protruding belly with a human inside and like, a million rand already, has me shook. Also, in which book did we all learn that 25 is the age when we are all supposed to be beautiful, company-owning and debt-evading people?
It is taking so much for me not to constantly punish myself for not being where I road-mapped myself to be at this age. It is something that has been troubling me ever since my 22nd birthday started looming – I am a fresh graduate currently interning for “experience” while subsequently being too tired to get my side hustle’s (read: true passion/all I want to do in life) done at the end of each work day.
But now, I am tired. I am tired of feeling guilty and upset about things that are not actually ruining my life in any way. Goals are set to be achieved – how they are achieved is something that we don’t get to have ultimate control over because, LIFE. I realized that although I am not on my Google-Maps-determined journey to my goals, I am on the journey! My goals are still the same and I am still working toward them, I am closer now then I was at 18. So, this month I am going to try something new, I am going to be the kid that sees the wave, anticipates it and rides it; that kid has more fun!