I’m feeling much better these days than I was when I last posted. Thank you everyone for the words of encouragement and the birthday wishes yesterday! Yes, I survived 25. I remember last summer, coming up on the big Quarter Of A Century and feeling wrung out but hopeful. I was ready for 24 – an age that saw my personal life take turns I’d never expected nor welcomed – to be over with. I was curious as to what 25 would hold, what I would make of the next year of my life.
And here I am, post-25, officially 26. And I’ve come to a conclusion: the day before I turned 25 was just like the day before I turned 26, the only differences being the location and the players. Rather than my personal life falling apart during 25, it was my professional life as I knew it. I left the city I love, my home in this world, and over a month later I still don’t know if that was the best idea. I’ve got a job, which is something to cheer me up, but it’s not the sort of job I ever saw myself in, and I’m not even sure if it’ll pay my bills.
I thought, at almost-25 that heartbreak and loneliness and fear were the worst things that could happen to a girl. That turning 25 would solve all that drama and give me new strength to battle through the day. I was wrong. Limbo is difficult no matter your age, no matter your job, your place, your drama. Limbo is about not knowing who you are, and the struggles we go through to find that out.
I’m still working on it. I’m enjoying myself in the mix, serving drinks at a local club and making new friends everyday. It seems my grand plans for moving South have been adjusted; rather than grand, I’m feeling cautious, taking baby steps. I’m hoping to get more involved here – I’d love to meet the local Young Republicans, find a church, and spend time with the friends I’ve made – before I make any big decisions. Perhaps that’s the first step out of Limbo, just taking a deep breath and seeing where you are once you’re done with that.