As the year slowly comes to a definitive close, I can’t help but look back solemnly at how my life has changed from my early twenties into now, my mid twenties. It has been a time of self discovery, maybe a bit delayed for a young woman in an urban environment in this day and age, but it has happened nonetheless. I have found personal value in my first, official job that (that I will now be leaving after 3 years) and simultaneously found a powerful, lasting love that always incites the question “why me?”.
I was a child then and I’m sure I will look back at my age now and still think I was a child when I’m approaching my mid thirties. The constant line drawn between all of my past selves is the overwhelming nostalgia I feel when a new step has to be taken in my life; whether that is finding a new job or leaving one that has become more cumbersome than beneficial to my development, no matter how much I will miss the attachment to the memories it holds. Every motion I make to move forward is followed evenly and rhythmically by the heart wrenching desire to hold to whatever I’m leaving behind. But why? Why is the past always seen as so much better than the future when it comes time to letting it go?
As children we always wanted to be adults. As children we didn’t have a sense of nostalgia because all we wanted to do then was move forward, grow, be in charge. Now, too much power is overwhelming and we can’t seem to take enough control over our lives and so, we look back to a time when those were inevitable to us. Why wouldn’t we be able to be a big boss, or chose to have ice cream for breakfast? We would be grownups.
I am now, technically a grownup, and still don’t really know what I am doing or what I want. Although, I have realized that the best way to dealing with this is understanding that not everything can be controlled. Some things are going to happen the way they happen and all we can do is be along for a ride, whether enjoyable or not.