A twenty something year old

why didn’t I post you?—

 

As of lunchtime August 13,2016 I will be 22 years old. A twenty something where the second number doesn’t really matter anymore because what more advantages do I get by being one year older? Last year I became legal in the states, 19 is legal in Canada. So I’ve decided 22 is the year I make my own checkpoints. This is difficult because I could think of so many things I’d like to accomplish, yet some things are vague and not as tangible as donating blood or making sandwiches for the less fortunate.

22 is the year I will stop blaming myself.

22 is the year I make my bed.. Most of the time.

22 is the year I learn to cope with stress in healthier ways than allowing my body to break down.

22 is the year I forgive people, genuinely forgive.

22 is the year I get inspired and inspire.

22 is the year that I realize I don’t have to figure my life out all at once.

22 is the year I suck the life out of life

22 is the year I indulge in all the experiences I can

22 is is the year I read and read and read

22 is the year I will let go of the memories that cause me misery

22 is the year I try different hobbies, even if I end up hating all of them

22 is the year I push my self harder than ever before

22 is the year I realize that I am allowed to have days I want to stay in bed

22 is the year I do not take the small things for granted, even the smell of coffee in the morning

22 is the year I stop crying about what could have been

22 is the year I refuse to settle

22 is the year I put myself first

22 is the year I learn to cook a new meal

22 is the year I do not let romantic relationships steal the spotlight

22 is the year I learn that my ideas, perceptions and thoughts do not have to be agreed upon by everyone

22 is the year I learn to voice those opinions

22 is my year.