February 22, 2015 by Ifeoma Dennis
I was going to not write a blog post about my pre-24 thoughts and wait till next year or something mostly because my life is super uninteresting right now…and what’s the point of blogging about a boring life?
But I figured why not just do it, life is not a series of interesting still pictures, it comes with lots of boring parts. And even if no one reads this post, I just want to keep something out here on my blog…for say, someday when I become the next J.K Rowling with a bestselling book and young girls who are still figuring it out want to get motivated (HAHAHAHA! Just kidding there).
How do I feel about turning 24?
I honestly feel blerghh.
I have never been one to celebrate my birthdays (umh…let’s see: last year on my 23rd birthday, my cousin paid me a surprise visit to my lonesome one-room apartment back on the island with a candle and a cupcake and we took pictures, I didn’t wear make up at all but that act alone was well-appreciated because I was off facebook then and was seriously impressed by anyone who even remembered my birthday apart from my sister and parents.
Mandy and her husband made a super-sweet happy birthday video for me, and my classmate, Lejay let me use his UWorld qbank as a birthday present. And my newly-acquired ex–at the time—shot me an email).
Whew! So this year, I feel older. Of course, I’m older. My spirit just feels a lot, lot older.
23 wasn’t a year I did anything major, except if traveling to a country/culture I wasn’t used to before could be counted as one (okay, yes, that one did feel major at the time)…but the one goal I set for myself while I was 23 which was to write and pass my exams…didn’t happen. I didn’t even sit for said exam out of fear.
In spite of that, 23 was a year I crawled out of my safe cave and faced the ocean waves. There were lots of nights I bawled into my pillow with no one to comfort me (mostly because I didn’t want to bother anyone with my incessant depression), and there were other nights I cried and there was my sister/my mom/ Mandy (and a few of those nights too, my new roommate) to talk to. And there were days I woke up drained of all energy. But I’m still here, and each new day, I’m determined to be that woman…who is fearful, anxious, even cries into her pillow some nights, but still fights hard for her dreams.
I made a couple of new friends, both when I went to London, and when I came to Chicago. And they’re awesome!
I made mistakes too, but not as much as I made when I was 22. Or 21. Or 20.
23 was a year I learned to break away from people and habits I’d grown attached to that no longer served a purpose in my life. I was single all through me being 23 (okay, I had a random date here and there, and even went out with my ex after our break up a couple of times…against both our better judgments). And I was okay with being single. It was uncomfortable at first, getting used to *things I shouldn’t bother writing about* but then, I got used to it.
Much like I got used to drinking eight glasses of water a day (another 23-year-old resolution).
I haven’t really crushed on anyone since (okay, that’s a lie, I had this intense one-week crush on someone not long ago but then came back to my senses. At least, I think so). Dating is not just a thing that’s meant to happen in my life at the moment. Maybe when I’m more settled and know where I’m going with my life. Or maybe I’m just going to be one of those women who are like birds…never settling anywhere. We’ll see.
This past year, I stared at the reality of failure. .. Hopefully, my worst nightmares would not come true. But I’ve come to realize there’s only much one could do and control, and the rest are in God’s hands.
23 was a year I slowly came to accept myself and my quirks for who I was. I’d spent so long fighting myself, my body, and thank God 23 came with me accepting that yes, I’m never going to be a Beyoncé, but I am always going to be me. And there’s nothing repulsive or unforgivable about me.
This also goes without saying, my thought process went through a major overhaul and I’m thankful for it.
As for the things I want to do when I’m 24, I’ll love to:
- Survive this phase of my life. To make it through.
- Get closer to breaking away.
- Not make the mistakes I made when I was 22, which thankfully, I didn’t make when I was 23.
- Trust God more. It makes no sense being a Christian, if I feel God isn’t bothered about the big things in my life. If I can just believe that He knows I’m here and cares about me, I guess my life would be easier. And I would be less anxious.
- Be less impressionable, and see through certain people. (I’m like the most gullible girl in the world).
- To continue trying my hardest.
- To keep on living authentically.