29

Am I supposed to feel different? 

This is my last year in my 20s. For awhile,  the thought freaked me out; however, now, I feel indifferent to it. Perhaps it’s that I don’t have the same energy as I used to, that is, to “age” and be excited that I’m becoming the person I’ve always dreamed of becoming. The person I always wanted to be when I grew up. Now I’m simply grown up. It isn’t this distant desire; it’s just my day to day. 

Plus, it’s just a number and I’m still me. Never again will I be a young adult, but I also don’t want to go back to those days. I am much happier and I'm content with who I am, now, at 29 (tomorrow).

But, being the last year of my 20s, how do I make this one count? 

I want to stop caring about what people think about me, or as others might say, I want to not give a ____. Apparently, I do give some _____ to not type the word ____, but it's my own personal preference and not because others expect me to say/not say something.

I’ve always been a worrier, and I spent so much of my 20s worrying. I knew, even at 22, that if I kept on worrying, one day, at 29, I’d regret it. Sure enough, I regret it. I regret how much I worried. A lot of the worry was to do with my future–if I would marry my dream guy, if I’d find a career that made me happy, stuff like that–but a lot of my worry was also about what others thought of me. I’m a people pleaser, perhaps a curse of being an INFJ, but these past few weeks it’s suddenly dawned on me: I don’t have to please people. I don't have to care whether people like me or not. I don’t have to give any _____. I can just be me.

It’s not that I don’t want to care for people or be sensitive to how my actions affect others, that’s not it at all. In fact, I want to continue being vulnerable, with myself and with others . I want to love deeper and have more compassion. What I don't want is people pleasing controlling my life, jeopardizing who I am, what I stand for and how I wish to be. 

I think about all of my years as a ballet dancer, standing in front of a mirror, watching my body move. I realize this discipline made me so aware of how I appear to others that, unbeknownst to me, I became obsessed with it and it ruled my entire life. It has caused me to hold back parts of myself, instead of allowing myself to dance freely as a child, the child I was before I cared about what I looked like in a mirror/to others. 

So, here’s to the art of simply being me and not caring about the judgement of others.

Here's to the art of not giving a ____.

Here’s to not worrying, and letting life happen how it’s going to happen.

Here’s to being  my honest self, my whole self, my flawed self,  my wandering self.

Here’s to being me, and giving me all I’ve got.