25

I softly reminisce about the days I lived in a one-bedroom apartment with my mom, my two little sisters, and a being I would prefer not to give a proper name. I was at the age where my homework was studying for the spelling test every Friday. Once, my sweet mother was helping me learn to spell the word, “author”. She kindly gave me a hint that it was the name of a character I had regularly watched on TV. She meant Arthur. Second grade was the grade where my teacher told my mom during the parent-teacher conference that I talked too much. That hasn’t changed.

In the third grade, I discovered my love for cheese pizza and learned that I needed to close my mouth when I chewed food. It was in the fourth grade where I learned to not rudely and abruptly interrupt people who were having a conversation. Fifth grade was the beginning of a long and embarrassing struggle of trying to fit in with what’s cool until I was in high school and realized that every household had different incomes. If I could go back in time, I wish I didn’t wear my neighbor’s old squeaky pair of Jordan’s just so that I could feel ‘cool’ or ‘normal’. I was always fed, had my own room and bed to sleep in, the lights always stayed on, but I didn’t realize what was truly important at that time. Now, I do.

I remember thinking that at 21 years old, I’d be living by myself, paying for my own cable and other bills, and officially be a grown-up.

Now, I am turning 25… paying bills is not as fun as I thought it would be and cable is no longer a thing of my generation. Then comes the question of would I consider myself a grown-up? No, at least, not yet. I’ve still got so much to figure out and learn, and more importantly, many more mistakes to make. And the funny thing about life is that we don’t know that we’ve made a mistake until after the repercussions arrive and we have to face the consequences. Do I need to list 24 mistakes and one big lesson I’ve learned? No, I’d be reiterating the entirety of my blog, ha! But one thing I’d like to repeat is that I believe everything happens for a reason.

Every. Single. Thing.

From me staying up all night on anime forums and attempting to get my animation skills up to the Pixar standard to switching high schools back and forth to working the various jobs before I landed my current position. Even though I am entering my mid-20’s, I deeply believe I’ll carry my childhood with me for decades to come. As a child, I lived in daydreams of worlds beyond this planet and I still find myself in random reveries from time to time.

As I reflect on my childhood, which had various epochs that I know still influence my present-day personality, it makes me ponder about what of my 20’s and 30’s will carry onto my 50’s and 60’s.

A significant yet odd era of my teenage years was the period where I was not genuine nor was I true to myself. I ached to fit in with my peers and felt the pressure to do and say things I did not completely align with just to feel accepted, or so I thought. Those days feel like a fragment of my imagination because it is such a sharp contrast to my current reality. I believe life is too short to be anyone but yourself. I wish 14-year-old me knew this, but no 14-year-old knows everything. But that’s the beauty of life, it is the journey of learning and experiencing.

I experienced x, y, and a thousand other z’s, and yet I continue to yearn to learn more. It’s not over because it’s really just beginning. My mentality and mannerisms are two significant aspects I’m constantly evaluating so that I can evolve as a friend, a sister, a daughter, an employee, and the list goes on. My mind will not stop blooming for I have many more seasons and sunrises to see. I am excited, to say the least, to be 25 and truly thrive in life!

Thank you for reading!

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