Wow, 26
Did 25 ever happen? Another year around the sun and with each year it comes astoundingly quick. I wanted 25 to feel like I was flying as Phoebe sang, but at a glance it was mostly spending too much money on records, dancing in my living room, and popping out to the Ballard breweries, grabbing a beer, and catching up with friends. Those are some of the moments that stick out to me when I wasn’t confined to the inside.
I am continually amazed that I still enjoy this blog. As it currently stands, it is truly an archive, just tiny timestamps of my life. I was reading back through my annual birthday post and cringing. I’m sure one day way off in the future I’ll thank myself for this documentation.
Have fun reading through the years: 21, 22, 23, 24, 25
As always, and I don’t know why I even started this, but a brief inventory of favorites:
Albums/Music: Times by SG Lewis, Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa, and Slow Rush by Tame Impala (really need to up the ante and expand my music taste)
Book: America is in the Heart by Carlos Bulosan
Breakfast: the fuck is this question…but it’s eggs, it nearly always has been and probably always will be
Clothing: I love a good monochrome look and any reason to wear white jeans
Restaurant: Westward, Musang, and Stoneburner
Bar: King’s Hardware (obviously), Octopus Bar
Dessert: again, the fuck is this question…creme brûlée or a scoop of Frankie & Jo’s
In summation, the last few years of my early twenties:
23 things were weird
24 I got better at dealing with those things
25 was just exclaiming “why the fuck does this stuff keep happening”, fixing it, and trying to move on
I went into 25 with revived optimism and determination to reverse the jaded sentiments I held because the pandemic had wrecked my plans. I set out to make it ebullient (cheerful and full of energy) and at some point, I lost sight of that. And that’s not to say my 25th year wasn’t ebullient, but using the word as a tether to what I wanted to procure in my life was a simple reminder I could not keep up with. I didn’t necessarily fail, I just forgot.
To remember this past year, I reread my journal (yes, I took up regular journaling and I love it). One of the first things I wrote down was the title of this part of my life: existential dread. Compounded by a volatile election season, global pandemic, trying to live it up in my twenties, date, figure out who I am and what I want to do and who I want to be within the walls of my home is daunting, so I’d say that title holds true.
Growing Old, Growing Up
25 was growing up. I found my first gray hair and swiftly plucked it as if I could throw out the inevitable future. I’m now diligent about putting sunblock on, even for a quick walk around the neighborhood. Back pain truly begins at 25 for no apparent reason. I was also reminded by the passage of time and what a privilege it is to grow old with the death of my grandfather. These, amongst others, were a slurry of lessons and realizations I encountered at this age.
Activities were naturally limited by the pandemic and I think that ultimately squashed my capacity to dream and ponder because I could not see past our everyday monotony. The days blur together with sprinkled attempts of making it interesting so I’d have something new to share on the phone. Despite these limitations, I still managed to make new friends, foster relationships, and create new memories to be cherished.
To appreciate the highs, there have to be lows. I felt lost and aimless. What am I working towards was a question I asked myself over and over. Is this just how you feel at a quarter of a century? This year, in particular, I felt like I had numerous, long, and hard conversations to patch up conflict and miscommunication. Maybe that is a testament to remaining undaunted by the conflict and confident in fighting to maintain these relationships…I don’t really know. I think time will determine how long I have certain people in my life.
In my journal, a significant trend was complaining about dating. A pandemic makes that difficult, especially when all you want to do be doing is meeting new people, but there were other facets like poor communication, exhaustion of initiating, and general passivity that have become synonymous with dating in Seattle. Ah, the plights of putting yourself out there.
I was fortunate to be surrounded by people, yet I largely felt lonely. I think 25 was one of the loneliest years to date. I’m still searching for a place of belonging and attempting to cultivate that. It’s a quest for stability in an ever-changing world. There was one evening where I didn’t want to go home and be alone and instead I drove around the city and sat at Kerry park for a bit, realizing how things had changed. At that moment, I saw only the negative, but it’s not so black and white.
I think back to my 22nd birthday, my favorite birthday. I LOVE my birthday and managed to stretch it out over ten days, conspiring to do something remarkable each day. I can vividly recall what I did each day because I was just going for it. And I think about that girl, and so much has changed. Sometimes I look back and think, do I even know her? She’s still there. Nerdy and kind of weird with more fashion sense now (?). I’m not sure why people think I’m cool sometimes lol. She’s trying to have fun and be spontaneous and make something of herself. She is confident. Oh my god, she is WAY more confident than ever before. I’m trying to do what I want, ask for what want - most of the time that means riding solo and I feel independent and capable when I’m doing things for myself.
Being on this side of my twenties, I’ve rifled through enough insecurities. I still have a lot of those, but I just care a whole lot less. I realized I have lost so much time worrying over what people thought of me instead of doing the actual goddamn thing. We’re still overthinking, but we’re working on that too.
For 26
When I was thinking about what I wanted to write for this post, I was researching all sorts of lists and nuggets of wisdom people have imparted. The quote “most people die at 25 and aren’t buried until they’re 75” kept reappearing. I can understand why this happens. As you grow older, other factors come into play and sacrifices must be made. Choice after choice leads you further down a different road and most of the time the easiest option doesn’t make strides towards your dream.
I don’t want to die at 25. I started to ask myself, what happened to your dreams? I’m attempting to preserve them instead of letting them pass through life. I want to try and feel alive each day. If I learned anything from this past year, is that I have the ability to make every single day fun and extraordinary in the tiniest ways.
With age comes obligations and seemingly the end of youth, but why? I don’t want to succumb to the general path of mediocrity by conforming to social standards of society, the to-do list of items that begin after the arbitrary milestone of 25. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s okay to find love in your thirties, to never get married, to not be buying a house in this current season of life, to not be well into my career, to not have much figured out, and to make mistakes. I think some aspect of life is in disarray at all times, you truly never have it together.
I feel like the F key on my laptop that’s falling apart: hanging on, but sometimes, and more frequently, I pop out of place. I’m more “adult” than ever and simultaneously reckless. There is a myriad of responsibilities that plague me daily, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be chaotic fun. In all the thought pieces about getting older that I read online, it felt like the end of youth, but I could not feel more the opposite of that. I feel like I’m just getting started. Still, there’s a lot of time, but don’t wait because it will pass you by before you know it. The best advice I’ve received to embrace the twenties is to try it all on. The world beats us down, but we don’t have to let it.
Throughout 26, I’m hoping to relish alone time, revel in solitude, and appreciate it at this time in my life; choose people who choose me and consistently show up; recognize that busy is not an excuse, we’re all busy and the right people with make the time for you; people will let you down, constantly, and they will disappoint you exactly how you thought they would, but pick yourself up, move on, and don’t look back; people say things they don’t mean and they say it with good intentions, but rarely do people act on the words they speak; buy the disco ball or whatever it is if it brings you pure joy; stop trying to understand why things happen and let them be; always wonder and dream; and promise to get a little better as I get older.
Aspirations nearly always sound cheesy, but I truly hope that 26 is shimmering. It doesn’t have to be flashy by any means but filled with the tenderness of bright moments, something to stare at in awe.