you're never too far behind
one last reflection before a new year
My friend sent me a meme the other day that said something along the lines of: let’s have one more crazy plot twist before 2025 ends. It felt fitting, because the past two months have been the wildest of the year and maybe even of my life.
I was put in a few different uncomfortable situations where my selfhood was tested, and I had to renege upon some things that made me happy because I knew that ultimately it was not in line with who I am as a person. I cried a lot and then laughed at how much I was crying and how much I felt like my fifteen-year-old self. In between all of the chaos, I managed to write and read and walk and enjoy the mélange of cold wind and hot sun. I worked on something that has been very important to me throughout 2025. I also made amazing memories with the people I love.
So, the past few months could best be described as a balancing act. I had to take the good with the bad, the pleasure with the pain, the laughter with the tears. As always, I am thankful for the growth, but I also wonder, in part, why I still don’t have anything figured out at twenty-seven years old. It’s the intrusive thought that occasionally taints the happiness I feel and grounds me back in a reality where nothing is certain for me and may not be for a long time.
The other day, I had a doctor’s appointment where a kind nurse listed me at “27 years, 5 months, and 21 days old.” Somehow, unbeknownst to me, half the year had passed by in some transformative whirlwind. My birthday felt like it was just yesterday. Against my will the seasons had changed, and we were propelled into a new year, tunneling towards an uncertain future like a bullet train. In that doctor’s office, I felt suddenly afraid. Time was slipping out of my hands, and there was so much I had yet to accomplish. To make matters worse, it feels like I keep repeating the same mistakes, ones that would have been permissible at fifteen but are borderline tragic at twenty-seven. I have the naivety of a young girl and the scars of a growing woman, but both are rooted in stagnancy. I think I looked at the age on my prescription sheet for an uncomfortable amount of time. I keep feeling like I am falling behind.
Something in me yearns for the chance to try and fail and try again; perhaps if I were living in a world of my own with no one around to observe my missteps. Every conversation I have with a friend is a reassuring one for about five minutes. When the line goes dead and I’m left with the pin-drop silence of myself, I start to get nervous. The most common advice I receive is to “slow down” or “go with the flow.” It’s not easy, especially when I have goals for myself and time is slipping through my fingers and the days are getting shorter. But it’s the advice I give to people, too, and as I catch those calm words spilling from my lips, I wonder why it is so easy to be kind to others and harder to be kind to myself.
The other day, someone asked me about my New Years resolutions. I racked my brain for an answer. I knew I must have written something down somewhere, since I’m always writing things down. I knew I made a vision board. But my brain turned to a flowing river, and I couldn’t remember a single thing. Of course, I panicked. I resolved to go home and immediately list five things I wanted to accomplish. But when I sat down in front of my journal, it was so hard. Like pushing a boulder up a hill or running a marathon. My hands and mind were on two different wavelengths, unable to concur. It was so unlike me to lack a tangible plan a year in advance. To leave something to the wind or wayside. Until now, that page in my journal is blank.
I have things I want to get done, of course. I even know the tangible steps I need to take to achieve them. I even know, logically, that time is on my side and that everything moves at its own pace and that some divine intervention is at play when miracles take place and dreams come true. But I lay awake at night worried that I won’t become who I’m meant to be. I wonder why I write about the same things, having yet to solve some of my long-standing problems and anxieties. I watch everyone around me seemingly figure things out and wonder why I can’t.
Being an adult is so weird. You have the resources and time and money to decide what to do with yourself, and yet it can consistently feel like you’re doing the wrong thing or making the wrong choice. I, for one, feel like I’m consistently abusing my free will. Social media makes me compare myself to everyone and feel like I’m coming up short. I get exhausted by the cycle of pity and anger.
So then, all I want is peace. To actually make my brain slow down. To really live in the moment and experience each day for what it is instead of wondering about what it could have been. But I also don’t want to stress myself out too much about slowing down (ironic, I know), especially in the instances when I feel motivated and driven and purposeful.
Sometimes, someone my age will say something so profound and wise that it will make me feel like a little girl in my mother’s high heels, struggling with every step I take. My cheeks flush and I silently wonder why I feel so girlish at times and so jaded at others. I think I’m in between seasons. Not yet in line with my full potential, but on the way towards it so that I can recognize what serves my purpose and what doesn’t. In other words, I’m not that far behind. I think. I wonder what it is I’m chasing, which goal post will tell me when I’ve reached my target and done all I needed to do. It’s interesting how the goal always changes, so that we never really feel like we realize our full potential.
I have one goal for the new year, maybe: to apply the advice I give to others to myself. When I tell people to slow down, I know I’m really talking to myself. Especially when I say that “life is not a race.” This is something I should have long put into practice. To breathe deeper and be kinder and look at things with fresh eyes. To retain some of my immaturity and innocence, since that is what keeps us young. To value myself so much to the point that anything that does not serve me is not up for consideration.
I haven’t achieved this yet, but I know I’m not too far behind. I think maybe there’s no such thing. I think the goal post can be changed and we can change, too, and see the value in slowness. I am going into the new year with love in my heart and patience for myself, and I hope it takes me where I need to go.