Been Awhile…

Hey. Hi. Hello.

It has been a hot minute, friends. My therapist and I have been discussing ‘self-worth’ recently. About finding mine, specifically. Nothing says quarter-life-crisis quite like therapist. Lol.

I often find my self-worth in writing. Purging my thoughts – helping myself and sharing my story. Maybe mine can assist someone else. So here I am. Funnily enough part of my trauma revolves around a blog. My blog, and my stepmother reading it. I called her a bitch, there’s no secret there. And that’s it. She obvi didn’t like that so I left. It is a mess, really. I’m sure it’ll pop up sometime here. Boy, it is juicy. She’s a real treat.

Anyway.

My self-worth. I’m still fishing through my brain to figure it out, but I’ve at least started. It’s like trying to describe depression. It is different for everyone. And I feel quite strange placing ‘worth’ on a person. The word itself invokes thoughts of clinical transactions. The worth of Rose’s diamond to her was nothing – to a diamond know-it-all, likely thousands. Re: Titanic. Idk if it is a diamond. Ugly blue pendant necklace. Not my thing, but apparently worth a lot.

We get the point.

I don’t think ‘worth’ is the word I want to use to justify my existence. Because that is what I believe I am getting at by struggling with my self-worth, I think? Justifying my existence in life, more often within others’ lives. I’m definitely giving too many fucks about what people think of me, though. Measuring my success to others. Enjoying my easy-going solitary life when others are busy, busy, busy – and feeling bad about it. Feeling like I should always be doing more. Silly, I’m sure. But that’s how I am sometimes. It takes a lot of practice to remind myself that I am enough and my only job is to simply live. Thanks Alan Watts.

So the existential crisis. Go on.

A friendly friend, we’ll call him George (?), once mentioned being rudderless in an existential ocean. I’ve never been so affected by a thought. Perhaps we are all rudderless and alone in an existential ocean. We certainly don’t talk about it. No, too taboo. To personal. Forbid we do anything to feel vulnerable or show our humanity…no.

But I am figuring myself out. Constantly growing and changing and experiencing. And, man, that ish is difficult. I’ve never been happy with just being. I’ve always needed a reason to be alive. Makes sense, most people do. And I’d lost that for a long time. And so I’ve narrowed down the ‘justification’ of my existence to my actions. Like the point system in The Good Place. Kindness has popped up as the one I place a lot of ‘worth’. I want to be kind to others. But that’s more of a moral or guiding concept rather than my ‘worth’. Because you can’t really measure your kindness, can you?

Can we, uh, get on with it?

‘I am worthless’ has floated between my ears for decades. Thanks depression. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to, though, removing myself from being worthy. I do not want to measure my existence. No one is keeping score of my accomplishments. No one is monitoring my life. The things I love are not the same as the things other people love. And that is okay! My friends choose to be my friends and if I am happy and not hurting anyone/anything I can be and do whatever I want – and those that choose to stay will. It is really that simple.

I’m not measured by my success and I should look around more often. I’m a badass and I’ve accomplished a great deal. I’m not worthless because I didn’t vacuum the carpet today. I am not worthless because I prefer solitude to a busy schedule. I am plain worthless. Because my life cannot be measured.

I can shape this ‘worth’ narrative any way I want. Because I control the power it holds over my emotions. Some days are much more difficult than others. I feel societal pressures to be continuously moving and doing and performing. Likely the effect of social media. But honestly I’m a homebody. I love curling up on my couch with my lil family and hanging out. I travel when I’ve got the funds, experience over things, local over brand name, etc.

I live, I assure you. But I like having a lot of free time and solitude. I’ve got my eye on a research assistantship this fall and do a lot of reading so I do what I can to update myself in the realm of academia. I do a lot of work for my classes (my actual job), exercise, and enjoy hobbies, but I also just chill. I don’t go out, drink much, play sports anymore, work with actual people, etc. And I don’t have kids, I think that’s a big one. So I suppose those reclusive habits free up a lot of time. But I’ve been feeling bad about it, ya know. Like – feeling ashamed for loving my life even though it isn’t as busy as others. Wat? Why, man? I pay my bills, I love on my favorite people and pets, and I try to do so as economically and environmentally conscious as I can within my means.

Okay, wrap it up…

Essentially all I need to do is live my life and stop caring about what other people think. Ha. Okay. That there, friends, is real damn difficult. It takes practice, patience, and Prozac in my experience.

Don’t be a dick.
Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
I am I, I exist, and I am alive.

Simple.

xx

-E

P.S. I recently took a solo road trip to Denver. I’ll likely have some thoughts about that out soon. I got a tattoo. Ate some chocolate that made everything great. Saw some foggy mountains. But mostly I sorted through my shit and came back a little more accepting. Stay tuned. =]

I will never have babies…

And that is okay.

I have battled with hormonal birth control for 10 years.

10 years! (!)

I had very irregular periods in my mid teens. I was put on Yazmin to regulate my period and help with cramps. I was not sexually active at 15.

I stopped taking Yazmin in 2012 at 21 years old. 6 years after I started. At this time, I was sexually active, but I was terrible at taking the pill at the same time every day. I’d miss one, double up, miss one again, double up, etc.. But that’s not a good way to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

I knew I didn’t want kids at 21. I had known for quite some time. Probably before I even started taking the pill. I’d never shown interest in babies. I have NEVER babysat in my entire life. I run away from babies in stores. I cringe when someone wants to show me a photo of a baby. I don’t like kids. AND the idea of growing a human inside me for 9 months, going through labor, and raising a kid for 18+ years does not sound fun. I can’t express how much I do not want to have a child.

Enter Beth. Beth and I have been friends since 2004. RGXC my 8th grade year. Beth had gone through with tubal ligation at 26 in 2016. At this time I was using Nuvaring as my form of birth control because the non-hormonal IUD (Paragard) I had placed in 2015 had expelled. I was intrigued with tubal ligation (a laparoscopic surgery that will block or remove Fallopian tubes in a female human) so I did a lot of research. I mean, a LOT.

It had been clear to me for many years that I never wanted to have a biological child. My battle with hormonal birth control started in 2006 and ended in 2016. I’ve taken “the pill”, used “the ring”, had a stick in my arm (Nexplanon), and tried two (!) IUDs. Hormonal birth control makes me crazy. AND it’s terrible for your body. The IUDs didn’t stay because I have an abnormally shaped uterus and my body goes through labor and expels them. My last IUD (Paragard) expelled in early January (I had it placed in early October).

Previous to having that IUD placed, I spoke to my OB/GYN about a tubal ligation. This was after Beth told me about her experience. I wanted to know if my lady doctor would allow me to have a tubal and what the risks were. The chat was lengthy and productive. My doctor was willing to take out my Fallopian tubes but urged me to try and IUD again. At this point, we didn’t know that my uterus is shaped in a way that will not allow an IUD to sit comfortably. I agreed to try another IUD. The Paragard is reversible and good for 10 years. It was a nice idea for a “safety net”; in case in the next 10 years I decided that I did want biological children.

Fast forward 3 months…the IUD expelled, painfully I might add. The nurse practitioner at my OB/GYN’s office performed an inter-vaginal ultrasound and discovered that I have a tiny uterus that is shaped like a heart. The normal size of a uterus (in a woman who has gone through puberty but never been pregnant) is roughly the size of a small peach, but just a little flatter. My uterus is roughly the size of a plum – which is equivalent to the size of a pre-pubescent girl’s uterus. Since I have gone through puberty, my uterus is abnormal. The likelihood of me being able to carry a child to term is slim and the likelihood of me having an ectopic pregnancy (where the sperm and egg fertilize in the Fallopian tube) is quite high – due to the shape of my uterus. Ectopic pregnancies are very dangerous and sometimes fatal.

Having the option to have biological children has always been there. But upon learning that my chance for an ectopic pregnancy is high and I would probably not be able to have children anyway was devastating. Learning that my body wasn’t able to carry a child made me feel like less of a woman. I grew up understanding that girls wear pink, play with Barbies, clean the house, make dinner, and have babies. Because I can’t have babies, I’m not a woman. It’s been engraved in my head since birth that little girls grow up to be mommies. My womanly body was made to procreate, to carry life, to birth a child. It had ONE JOB and it isn’t able to do that job. And even though I never planned on having children, I feel like my body has betrayed me.

Some of you may think “Well, you didn’t want to have kids anyway, so why does it matter?” or “You really did want to have kids, that’s why you’re sad that you can’t.” But that’s wrong. I’ve never wanted children (ask my mother…guarantee she’ll tell you I’ve not wanted kids from a young age). However, just because I don’t want children doesn’t mean it sucks less to find out that my risk of complication or the risk of miscarrying is pretty damn high. Unless you’re in this situation, it is hard to understand the pain I feel knowing that I can’t have biological children even though I never planned on having them. In short, it’s complicated.

 

With all of that said, I will be having laparoscopic surgery February 10th to remove my Fallopian tubes. The removal, rather than blocking, of the Fallopian tube removes any risk of an ectopic pregnancy and will lower my risk of ovarian cancer. Studies have found that most ovarian cancers have started in the Fallopian tube. Added bonus.

If you are reading this, I ask you to please respect my decision even if you don’t understand why. Yes, I could work with my OB/GYN to have a safe pregnancy later in life, but I don’t want children and I am not willing to risk my life in order to have a biological child.

Some of you may say that I am too young to make this decision. My retort to that is simple: If at 17 I was mature enough to decide what I was going to do for the rest of my life, at 25 I’m heaps more mature and can decide that I do not want to bring a child into the world. Side note: I’m not doing what I set out to do at 17. Fortunately I can change my career path. Unfortunately you can’t just change your mind about having a child. You’re kinda stuck with it after it’s born or else you’re a terrible parent.

I’m doing my part to save the world by not having a child. Here’s a really great NPR piece from August 2016 on having children and the environment: http://www.npr.org/2016/08/18/479349760/should-we-be-having-kids-in-the-age-of-climate-change

There are almost 7.5 BILLION people on this planet. Here is the projection of world population http://www.worldometers.info/world-population/

So before you cast your stone on me, think about why YOU want a child.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can’t put a title on this.

However great it is to romance the idea of seeing you again, I can’t help but think we’ve already opened a can of worms that I tried to bury years ago.

Thinking about being with you again and knowing that idea is something feasible is quite terrifying.

I would love nothing more than to live in the moment, take off on a weekend adventure with you, kiss you, touch you, lay beside you again, all those memories flooding back to me. Your brown eyes.

I am not blind to the pain we caused each other. Kids we were. Kids we still are. I remember the anger and resentment. I remember you ignoring phone calls and text messages.

“I wish I could give you the world, but I just can’t.” That’s what you said to me over the phone when you broke up with me.

I remember not being worth your time to drive a few miles out of the way to see me. Spending Thanksgiving break in your apartment feeling unwelcome. Never being enough for you.

But I also remember that day on the beach, kissing in the sand, our pant legs soaked. You were wearing a white v-neck. And the days spent lying in bed next to you. You and me against the world. How nice it was to have someone on my side.

We’ve opened this door again, knowing very well how this story could end.

We’re talking like no time has passed, like there haven’t been other lovers, like we’re back where we were. Like nothing has changed.

You’ve been shotgun in my car, singing along to those songs that bring me back to you. You’ve been in my bed, teasing me with thoughts of your hands on my body, lips on my own, holding onto one another. You’ve been on my mind in everything I do. Wondering if I’m running through yours as well.

Every feeling I’ve ever had about you has rushed back and filled me again along with these new feelings, thoughts, and ideas.

You’ve got to wonder why after all these years it’s all still intact.

I guess you either didn’t love someone, or never stopped…

Author Unknown

To say “I want you”
would sound far too eager.

To say “I need you”
would sound far too desperate.

To say “I love you”
would sound far too hasty.

So I remain silent,
hoping not to sound
too indifferent.

L&Ms

And I smoked.

Short and bitter on my tongue,
trying not to gag, because you were cool,
and I was all talk.

Nights surrounded by smoke.
Campfire, menthol, reds.
We burst into flames.
Went up in smoke.

And I smoked.
For the first time on my own,
living for myself, exhaling smoke.
Heart rate elevated until that first drag,
held for a brief moment, white smoke.

I always pick it back up.
When I need a gentle reminder
of who I am, where I was, and what I’ve done.
To smell you on my clothes, and taste you
one more time on my lips.
To breathe you in with every drag.

And I smoke.

Your valley, my mountain.

Water.
Gentle waves of glacial remains,
lake water from the summer we met.
Those warm summer nights, hot summer days,
sunburns and amusement park rides.
And in the fall, reminiscent of days past.
But brief, only in passing.
The summer next, you in the valley
me on the mountain.

Water.
A river, dark and dirty. A lake, murky and calm.
Both clarifying, pure.
You at the river, me at the lake.
Laughter, drawn from intellect, enticed by wit.
Still the summer, both at the lake.
The woods, that truck, a night with friends old and new.
The first time we touched.
We are measured by summers.
Yet in the spring, we drank, we talked, we danced.
Gone too soon.

The summer following,
you in the valley, me on the mountain.
The rivers, the hammock, the books.
We toasted, we laughed, we were shy,
until the night that ended with dawn.
The goodbye kiss,
the last time I saw you.

We are measured by summers, by water,
by days of longing, laughter, and nights we never wanted to end.
Now I’m in the valley, you’re on the mountain.
The very same I touched, I sat, I climbed.
Just one year apart.

We are measured by summers,
by brief encounters, by beers shared, and water.
Will this always be?
Are we now measured in memories?
Separate lives and memories?
We are measured in summers.
Where have they gone?
Will they ever be back?

Will the summers end and years begin together?
Or will we forever be measured in three summers,
holding fast to memories and that sleepy,
goodbye morning kiss?
You in the mountain, me in the valley.

 

Overnight Blueberry Oatmeal

I found a cool recipe on Pinterest and wanted to add my own flare to it. I was also really hungry and I wanted to busy my hands before I ate everything in the kitchen. Tomorrow’s breakfast is going to be awesome. =]

Overnight Blueberry Oatmeal

What you’ll need:

2 C Blueberries
1/4 C Milk
1/4 C Yogurt (I used plain Greek yogurt)
1/4 C Protein Powder (I used vanilla)
pinch of Salt
pinch of Cinnamon
1/4 C Brown Sugar

What you’ll do:

Mush the blueberries then combine everything in a bowl. Simple as that. Put it in two bowls, cover, and put in the fridge until morning. Mmmm! =]

All the necessary ingredients. Minus the brown sugar, I forgot to put it in there.

Seriously just mix it up.

Mmmmm. Purple goodness.

Yum!

For reals, though. I can’t wait until tomorrow morning.

This took about 5 minutes to stir together. The waiting will be the hardest part.

“No ‘poo” experience

The last time I shampooed my hair with regular commercial shampoo was two weeks ago. Since, my hair has had baking soda and apple cider vinegar, until today.

I researched the “No ‘poo” method before diving straight into not “washing” my hair. There are horror stores and hallelujahs. I didn’t have a bad experience with this method, but I didn’t have a wonderful experience either.

Back story:

I’ve been trying to cut out unnecessary toxins from my life. I’m not jumping on some sort of hippie bandwagon and I’m not going to preach it to everyone I meet, I’m just trying to save some money and save my sensitive skin. I dove right into not using shampoo.

My hair wasn’t oily for the first day, it felt thick and heavy, but still clean and rather dry. Day two I had tangles like you wouldn’t believe. My hair was dry at the ends and middle and from my scalp and an inch from it, my hair was greasy, really greasy.

I knew this was normal, so I stuck with it, washing my hair every two days (1T baking soda to 1C water; 2T apple cider vinegar to 1C water; using a spray bottle only at the roots with the baking soda mixture and a spray bottle all over with the apple cider vinegar).

I brushed my hair everyday (something I never did before) to get the overproduction of my scalp’s natural oils to the length of my hair. I wore my hair up during the day (to hide the grease) and down while I was home alone (because my cats don’t care about my hair).

I had read on multiple blogs (of people who swore by this method and have been successful for years) that there is a transition period and it will vary by person. I knew I was in this phase. The grease phase. And I didn’t like it. My hair looked and felt awful. Two weeks in and nothing had changed and I didn’t like it.

So I looked into a “Low ‘poo” method using castile soap and water. I used this today (I put about a teaspoon or a bit more of the peppermint Dr. Bronner’s magic soap in my palm, rubbed my hands together, and massaged the soap into my roots). While I let my hair air dry, I already noticed a difference. My hair curled a lot tighter, looked and felt less greasy (however, still a lot of oil happening up there on the scalp), and smelled nice (the peppermint is a nice touch).

While in the shower I also wash my face with a 1:1 baking soda and coconut oil mixture. There is always coconut oil left over from the face wash so I rub it into the ends of my hair, and ends only. This seems to keep them from becoming too dry.

My two week experience with the “No ‘poo” method was not as successful as I would have liked, but I am not opposed to it. If I would have stuck it out a few more weeks I probably would have had the same or similar results as hundreds of other “No ‘poo” users. However, the overproducing scalp oil deterred me a bit. I will not return to conventional shampoos but I will continue using the castile soap as I did today (I will find an easier way to apply the soap for my next wash).

Unlike other soaps, castile soap did not make my skin feel itchy, greasy, or dry so I am excited to try the different uses since it is mild and natural. I even used it on my stretched ears and they resulted with no dryness or irritation, which is a miracle, most other soaps leave them quite angry.

Eventually I would like to ween myself from using anything in my hair. Yep, that means washing with just water. Everyone’s hair/scalp is different but I’ll keep this updated to remember what works with my hair.

Adieu for now. =]

Life Changes

Enjoy.

One week ago I arrived home from Europe. I realized two things while in Europe (mainly France): 1) I do not NEED a lot of possessions to survive and be happy. 2) I do not NEED to wash my hair and body everyday. The first one may be something a lot of people have already discovered in their own life, the second my come as a bit of a shock.

While in Europe I carried a 20L pack and a small purse. I had all clothes, toiletries, and what I thought at the time as “necessities” in my pack and carried my wallet and important documents in my purse. I didn’t need half of what I brought. I opted to wear almost the same thing everyday for comfort because walking a lot demands comfortable clothes and my toiletries were unnecessary.

I know what you’re thinking: gross. But in all reality, all the soaps, toothpaste, and lotion were what was gross. I showered while I was in Europe, sure, but I didn’t use a lot of my toiletries (generally because I forgot to bring them into the shower with me and didn’t feel like going back in a towel to get them), so I showered in hot water. Doing this for two weeks cleansed my body in a sense. My hair was less oily, my body had less dryness, and my face cleared up.

I have always had sensitive skin, ask my mother, and I was continuously irritated by some lotion, body wash, or hair product. In college and then again in grad school I started using baking soda to clean my hair but I quit shortly after starting because my roommate would always put the baking soda in the fridge and heading downstairs to the fridge in a towel because you forgot the baking soda again wasn’t worth it to me (I’m sensing a trend…).

Having spent two weeks free of chemicals on my body and noticing how much my body had recovered from it I’ve decided to quit using “gunk” to “clean” myself. I made a container full of hair and body “soap” with baking soda and water (I want to add a little bit of scented oil, either ylang-ylang or rosemary, but I’ll probably do this in a small batch just to try in case it fails). I have a spray bottle with 1T of apple cider vinegar and 1 cup of water for conditioning my hair. And to rid myself of acne and keep it that way I mix a little bit of coconut oil with baking soda to wash my face and other acne prone spots.

My hair is very happy with what I’m doing. Since it had two weeks of cleansing it isn’t oily and dry it is quite thick (not ideal since my hair was thick before) bouncy, and much curlier; and it looks pretty damn healthy, too. My skin has improved as well. My face is still adjusting, but I am really enjoying the coconut oil and baking soda face wash not only in the shower but after I get out as well. My face feels oily, but a good oily, I’m not sure if that makes sense to anyone but me.

I skipped over the first realization in Europe, my apologies, I was very excited to talk about not using chemicals. I have started cleaning out my room. I don’t have many possessions that are near and dear to my heart so I’m giving away a lot of things that are, to me, impractical. I’ve gone through my closet and am only keeping the things I know I wear. I’ve gone through my entire room and de-cluttered and organized everything and it is quite freeing. I’m very happy with the outcome. I now know that everything I own (other than furniture: bed, chair, dresser) can and will fit (probably with room to spare) in my 2 door car. This is something I am very happy about and will strive to keep it this way.

-E

Advice for the Twenty-Somethings…

In lieu of my 23rd birthday I’ve taken thoughts and observations I’ve had from the past year and compiled them into list and explanation format as advice to my fellow Twenty-Somethings.

Most of us have graduated college, gotten a job or chosen to continue education via grad school, maybe some of us have dropped out of college, had a kid or two (or seven), or started travelling. Whichever path you have chosen, we’re all the same, we’re in our twenties, and we don’t really know what is going on…

I speak from a female graduate student’s perspective, so my advice is biased, but here are my thoughts and advice about my journey as a Twenty-Something:

1. Grow Up.
   Yes, we’re young, we’re going to make mistakes, we have so much to learn, yet we are now responsible for our actions. This shouldn’t come as a shock, generally with growing up, this is a responsibility that is thrust upon us once we reach the age of 18. However, four years of college creates an illusion that we are safe, untouchable, but we’re not. There is a time and a place to drink on week nights, stay up until 4am, sleep in until noon, that time has passed us by, we are real adults now, start acting like one.
2. Strive for the Highest.
   I stole this from my fraternity in college, but it packs a punch. Your twenties aren’t for fun and frivolous adventures. The relationships, connections, and growth you acquire in your twenties set the stage for the rest of your life. There is a very powerful TED talk by Meg Jay titled “Why 30 is not the new 20” (link here: http://www.ted.com/talks/meg_jay_why_30_is_not_the_new_20). Your twenties are not an extended adolescence. This is your time to work your ass off, build a career, build relationships, settle down, and make something for yourself. Do not become a stereotype.
3. Treat Yourself.
   Seriously. Being in your twenties is rough. If you’re working hard to become the responsible adult you want to be, then give yourself some love. Buy that dress, go get some ice cream (I don’t care how many calories are in that hot fudge sundae…eat it), take yourself to a movie, etc. When I’m having a particularly horrible day/week/month I like to go walking around a store or mall. The walking clears my head (and I get a bit of exercise) and I may buy something small for myself.
4. All of a Sudden You’re a Size 10.
   Around 21, your metabolism slows down, you’re less active because it is difficult to motivate yourself to keep running, doing yoga, playing sports, etc., you start gaining a little weight, skinny jeans aren’t so skinny, yoga pants become an everyday thing, and you tend to wear less form fitting tops. Welcome, my friends, to the Twenty-Something’s twenty some pounds. For those of you blessed with a great metabolism where you can eat whatever you please and stay at a healthy weight and still have a lovely figure, screw you. For the rest of us, the days of eating pizza every night for dinner, binge drinking, and having cupcakes for breakfast are over. It is time to start thinking about nurturing your body and being healthy. Learn to cook with bright colored veggies (seriously, I never knew I liked a lot of foods), try new things, cut out processed foods. This isn’t just for Twenty-Somethings, this is for everyone.
5. Happiness.
   Be ambitious, travel, create new ideas, paint, plant a garden, learn a new language. Do something with your life. Do not feel like a failure because you didn’t graduate from a 4 year university or haven’t scored your dream job or still haven’t gotten married or even found someone worthy of your time. Your twenties are a time for individual growth. Do not put your happiness in the hands of another human being, a job, a career, or an education. Create your own happiness.
6. Let Downs.
   They’re going to happen. Let them. You’re going to be told you’re too young, you expect everything to be handed to you, you’re not qualified, you’re not good enough. And they’re (the infamous “them”) right. As Twenty-Somethings, we are too young, expect handouts, and aren’t qualified. But we are good enough. Everyone has been a Twenty-Something before, they know how difficult it was to get where they are now; whether it be academic, career, or personal, they worked their ass off, too. Show some respect, work for what you want and prove them wrong. If we keep expecting things to be handed to us, we’re all doomed. So, gain some self worth, stand up tall, and don’t settle for second best.
7. Cry.
   It’s okay, everyone cries now and again. You’re 500 miles from home, you’re in grad school, working a entry level crap pay job, you’re having trouble making friends, you’re paying student loans, whatever is getting you down, let it out. It is tough starting a life on your own. A lot of us are self taught. We dove in head first before knowing if we could swim or checking to see if the water was deep enough, or if there were sharks. My adviser tells me this almost every meeting: You are not superwoman. She’s right, don’t fake that everything is okay when it’s not, but chances are, everything will be okay after a good cry.
8. Perspective.
   You’re in your twenties now, but I want you to think back to five years ago. How old were you? What were you doing? What were your dreams? For me, five years ago, I was 18, I had just graduated high school, gotten my first job, and dumped my first long term boyfriend. I was excited to start college, nervous about making friends, and trying to become my own person. My only dream at the time was to graduate college. And I did, three and a half years later. Now I want you to see how far you’ve come in five years. I am now a year and a half into my master’s degree. I have built an impressive resume, made some amazing connections, and grown so much in the past five years. Look ahead five years. Where do you want to be? What do you want to achieve? Think about how much you’ve gained in the past five years and apply that new growth to the next five years, you’ll surprise yourself.

So there you have it Twenty-Somethings, some advice, now get out there and kick some ass.

-E