You know, when I turned 25 last week, the day didn’t really feel that significant. But nonetheless, something shifted in my mind. At 25, I will have completed two degrees and enter the workforce. In short- I can now say, without any qualifications, that I am a grown woman. It feels good. *cues Tony, Toni, Tone*
I’m fast approaching the end of my scripted life. From here on out, there is no predetermined path- it’s just me, doing what feels good and growing as a person. And all of a sudden, I find myself caring less and less and sometimes, not at all about what other people think, or about what disasters could potentially occur. Eff it. I’m going to do the best I can and let the chips fall where they may. In keeping with my new outlook on life, I’m doing a makeover of sorts. I’m out of the stage where jeans, fly sneakers, and cute t-shirts are all I need to get by in life. It’s time for me to start dressing like an adult. But what does that mean for me? I want to look powerful, elegant, sexy. I’m tired of
being cute just being cute. I went to a potluck-turned-houseparty last week and danced like I was at home alone. In front of other people. I never do that! I guess I just have my own way of doing things. Up until this point, my goal was to graduate, get a job, and hopefully have a worthy male companion to share it with. Clubbing, drinking, worrying about looking sexy- they were all things that could deter me from my primary focus on academics. I come from a working class family, so I literally can’t afford to leech off my parents until I’m 35. I just don’t have that luxury.
Except now, I do. At this point in my life, all I have to do is not screw it up! So the pressure’s off. As long as I don’t slack off with my classes, I’ll graduate. As long as I continue to network and stay on my job search, I will find a position. And I’m with a man who loves me unconditionally and wants to spend the rest of his life with me, so what do I have to be scared of? I’m far away from the humiliation-laden hallways of middle school. I’m no longer a naive, insecure high schooler. I can let it all hang out, so to speak. Sexiness and sensuality are not reserved for the skinny girls, or the perfectly hourglass shaped Beyonces of the world. It’s truly a state of mind. When I lost weight my senior year of HS, I thought it would make me feel totally different but I had the same insecurities as before. And I don’t have to wait to lose 10, 20, 30 pounds to love myself and enjoy the body I have. Lately I’ve found that I can work out or not, eat a salad or not, without a crippling sense of guilt or obligation. I do it because it makes me feel good, and if sometimes what feels good is having a cheeseburger then dammit I’ll have one.
Let go and let flow.