i’ve always thought my twenties would be the years of self discovery. i would figure out what i wanted to do with my life (career), where i want to live, who i want to live with, generally discovering personalities that i can and cannot tolerate. i would fall in love, get married, launch an incredible career, and travel. maybe towards the end of that decade of life i’d start having children.
well, i’m twenty six now, and i can’t say that i feel any closer to figuring myself out than i was six years ago. there are some things of course: i love living in a big city; i love my amazing husband; i want to finish my masters’ before i’m thirty.
the last few years i’ve found myself on a continued path of self-discovery. like the “me” of my early twenties was just a copy of the people that i was living/studying/living with at the time. on my own, it’s time to figure out who i really am. it’s time to fall in love with myself, the inexplicable quirks & vices.
i heard someone describing the life process within the context of personal style & fashion: young women in their twenties are discovering the colors, textures, patterns, and fits that work (and don’t work). they decide what trends they want to follow or dismiss. by the time the thirties roll around, they have discovered their sense of style has evolved into their outward expression of self.
now back to my twenty-something self i say: get your ass into the fitting room & start trying on some clothes.