I love growing up. Defeating expectations and the brilliant realisation that expectations are zilch. When you are a kid things are so easy, I always imagined by 25 i'd have a perfect little house. Similar to Miss Honey from Matilda, a cottage in the woods covered in flowers. Maybe a husband, a baby, a million pounds.. I've always been a dreamer.
I'm a month and two days away from being twenty five and believe it or not I'm happy growing up. Age isn't something you should fear, it's something to embrace.
If you want to eat ice cream for breakfast, who cares? The best thing about being an adult is doing things your own way, sure you will always have to take responsibility. Work your little ass off to pay for everything you need. But you also have this unknown freedom. Ability to make choices for yourself without being overshadowed. It's wonderfully free.
Somedays i'll sit watching a whole series and think "Am I acting like a teenager still mid twenties?" should I be thinking of getting married, reproducing and doing everything that everyone else seems to desire at this age? You know what, time is on my side. Why rush all these things? Girl's who push their partners to propose, why? Is rushing someone in to committing to you really what you want? I'm so happy taking one day at a time, taking each day slowly like a tortoise. It's not about how fast you win the race, but the stuff that happens along the journey.
25, a quarter of the way there.
I'm so excited for the future. Hanging on to this rollercoaster and just watching the world spin me around. Basically, moral of the story. Do what you want, you've got time.