I am approaching the age of 27 in just a few weeks, and it’s hard to say how I feel about where I am in life right now. On the one hand, I can say that 2017 was a painful roller-coaster in many respects, but my mom has reassured me that I’ve grown up a lot and that those pains were, in fact, growing pains.
On the other hand, after a year of growing pains, living my life way outside my comfort zone for perhaps the first time, all of a sudden I find myself back to square one: living at home in sunny southern California with my dear mother. And I finally have a (shared) dog again, which was the norm during my adolescent years.
It’s strange. The house is the same, the weather is sunny as always, the streets are the same, and I can find my way around town without a GPS.
Yup, I’m home.
Perhaps many of us twentysomethings can relate to some of the identity crisis I’ve been experiencing since returning to my hometown, after a few of years of an extended reality check in the scary “real world.” Yes, I am back home, in an ever familiar place, but one thing has noticeably changed: me.
After this past year of job and apartment hunting in an unfamiliar cold and gloomy place where I moved to because of a guy who did not treat me right, after all the sweat and tears and homesickness and gradual growth over the months, in a blink of an eye I left all that behind and relocated myself back to the west coast.
I quit my job, broke my lease, gave away all my furniture and got rid of everything that couldn’t fit into my three suitcases. I also had a final conversation with the guy who says he still really cares about me… but doesn’t love me enough to marry me, even though he had already proposed.
I digress. I don’t want my writing to be a medium for recording all my complaints…
My point is, as someone who is basically in my late twenties, I never thought I’d have to start my life all over again. But after all the recent messiness of human life, I think the merciful God decided to save me from my messy situation so my whole life could be fully reset for a clean start before it’s too late.
Plan of attack (not in order):
- buy a used car
- sleep a lot
- gain my weight back (everywhere I go, people I knew from before tell me I’ve become really skinny)
- do things that I enjoyed doing once in my life (playing piano, recording music… wow is that it?…. need to brainstorm)
- apply for jobs
- get a job in desired field
- save money (yay, no more rent!)
- camp out at hipster cafes just like the old days
- get gym membership
- take care of annoying things (health insurance, car insurance, finding a new PCP and therapist…)
- take some online classes
It’s easy to feel like you need to start another relationship after a break up (guilty) because that’s just been the norm for so long. All of a sudden, something that was a huge part of your life is stripped away completely and there is this gaping void, once filled by male figure.
As nice as it may seem to rush into another one, it is helpful to consider things objectively and practically to make the best decision for the long run. Of course, we just don’t know what surprises life will bring us, but we can at least do the best we can with what we have and know.
I’ve been thinking that it’s not a good idea to enter a new relationship when I haven’t fully healed from the last. I just don’t want the next person to come along only to find out I still have a lot of baggage from the past. I want him to get to know ME, not me plus lingering bits of the past.
Maybe that’s too idealistic of a thought (feel free to let me know if it is), but at least right now it makes sense to me that a healthy relationship takes two whole, healthy persons.
Speaking of healthy, in the meantime I have probably been consuming too much of the best snack in the world, hot cheetos. There must be something in it that causes addiction. They are also super comforting when you’re down in the dumps or climbing out of it.
I’ve read once that the guy who invented hot cheetos was a janitor. Ok I’m done.