“Something tells me, now, standing at the end of twenty-four, that twenty-five is going to be pretty damn all right. And I am perfectly all right with that.”
I wrote that a year ago, with all these grand ideas of what 25 would be like.
Boy, I had no idea. I think without a doubt, 25 has been the best year of my life in a long time. Not that it didn’t have its downs, but by far the high highs were better than the lowest lows.
25 started off with San Antonio, and I so want to go back for more than 18 hours. This year I got to travel to different parts of Texas I never see, including back to Huntsville for a whole two hours before my freshman roommate’s wedding.
Between that April wedding and now, I saw two cousins marry their loves (literally both in the last month). Love’s a funny thing, I’m learning. A year ago, I was immersing myself in this weird 21st century version of dating. I’d been talking to someone for almost a month, waiting to set up a time to meet until he ghosted me.
And then messaged me again six months later at midnight with promises he’d text me the next morning. A 1 am butt dial is all I got, but that’s okay, I knew better than to expect anything.
But even better than okay, I actually found someone. It’s been seven months since I walked into a bar with absolutely no expectations because I was over dating. I went feeling that I at least owed the guy a date because we’d been talking for over a month.
Little did I know I’d still have him in my life. Thanks for the last seven months, C, they’ve been amazing with you sticking around.
A relationship wasn’t the only big change 25 threw at me – I successfully navigated my way into a new role at my company and got a pay raise that was much needed after purchasing my baby blue.
While in training for the new job, I found out I made the first ever President’s Club for the company. Seven people out of a 1,000 in the company. 25 was the best year for my career so far, and I have a spear trophy to prove it.
Writing went pretty well, too. While I didn’t get 5 books out like I thought I would in January, I also didn’t expect a boyfriend, a new car, or a change in jobs. But I’ve published two and have a third on the way.
Not everything was peachy though, the apartment I live in started off rocky. Threats to go to the city were the only way I got my heater or air conditioning fixed, along with a long list of other things.
My weight, instead of going down, went way back up and right now, I was the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life.
26 is going to change that.
At 26, I hope for more wisdom – especially involving my finances. I hope to pay off some debt, like student loans. I hope to publish more books, to lean hard into my publishing. 25 was a big year of growth and it feels like 26 is meant to be a year of continuing in that direction. I hope to remember that life is messy and nothing goes according to plan, but to enjoy the moments where I don’t have to live my life by a to-do list.
I’ll travel to new places, meet new friends and hopefully stay in one job the entire year. For as great as 25 has been, I’m crossing my fingers that 26 is gonna be legit.