I used to think that your twenties are for learning and making mistakes. And I’d say that with such ease and simplicity. Like I knew what the fuck I was talking about.
Even though I went to my five year high school reunion jobless and have never brought a guy home for the holidays, I think I’m just starting to sort it all out.
I wish I didn’t care and overanalyze and constantly do a mental check in on myself. But let’s face it, I’m a Sagittarius and Irish twin so I’m doomed to be a quirky introvert.
Final case and point of how my mind works when I’m a tad scattered,
I’m reading three books right now:
The 30 Day HeartBreak Cure
Play Like a Man, Win Like a Woman
We: Understanding Romantic Love
Enough said :)
I was in therapy after work today and through tears I told her how I had been feeling recently and updated her on family drama, the old boyfriend and my disconnect with work and friends. She told me that I needed to build myself back up and I won’t be able to handle the outside rockiness if my inside isn’t stable, and right now it isn’t. I agreed and explained my esteem is shot and right now, I have a hard time making eye contact with people.
I studied in London at 19 without knowing a sole and now I blush when my doorman calls me ‘bonita’. I’m the only one in my family who went away to college and now I can’t relax around my old BF because I think once I do, he’ll reject me...again. I’ve been working at least part time since I was sixteen and now the best part of my day is lying in bed in the morning, trying not to call in sick. Most of the time, I don’t-- but I want to.
Needless to say is, something is amiss in the state of Denmark...
So what I’ve realized after weeks, okay fine- months, of looking into the mirror and not recognizing the puffy, tired eyed girl in front me, is that your twenties aren’t just for making mistakes.
They’re for falling down, and for falling completely apart. They’re for losing everything and everyone you thought you knew and wanted. They’re for letting go when you want to and don’t want to. They’re for learning that fairy tales don’t exist the way you want them to.
They’re for disappointment and betrayal and flannel PJs and wine and staying in alone when you don’t have the confidence to go out.
Your twenties are for becoming a shell and learning how to fill yourself back up and put the pieces back together, not one day at a time- because some time that’s too much.
Right now, I’ll be happy with being refilled just one moment at a time. And then seeing how the next moment goes.
Now, just allow me to believe that I’m fucking right with this one okay? Don’t ruin it for me and tell me this bullshit continues into your thirties. Let me have this moment.
P.S. My therapist ended the session by mentioning next time we’ll talk about my father, since I never mention him and that may have something to do with me clinging on to my old boyfriend. I did about ten mental eye rolls and sadly handed over my copay.