Finding My Place

I'm 21. Almost 22. I'm used to being the youngest, whether it be in a classroom or in my circle of friends.

At 18, you're considered a legal adult. You graduate from high school. You drive yourself crazy trying to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life. You have advice flung at you, whether you ask for it or not. It's a horrible time of life, because you have to decide who you are and who you want to be.

Or do you? I still catch myself saying, "When I grow up, I want to..." and then realize that I am grown up. What do I want?

What happens to all the dreams and hobbies we gave our time to growing up? Can anyone tell me? I took a moment for self reflection the other day. There are so many things I enjoy. So many things that I want to do, want to be. I love blogging, for instance. This blog has been a place where fourteen year-old me would post random stories about what I ate for lunch. It has been a place where seventeen year-old me posted novel snippets.

Yet somehow, adult me is at a loss for words (which I assure you, is a rare occurrence).

I have read blogs on how to blog better. And each one says to find my niche, to find one thing and focus on it. That's so hard for me because I switch topics unconsciously sometimes (sorry). Guess what? That got me burnt out. And I was so focused on finding the right thing to write, that I just stopped blogging. I stopped writing period.

I suppose you could say that I am still finding my place. But I know that my "place" isn't just one niche--it's a collection of little things: I still love to write and I'm a foodie who dreams of starting a food blog. I've discovered that sometimes it's more important to do something than to sit and wait for the right thing to appear. My husband once told me that making mistakes is good, because it means you're at least trying.

So here's to making mistakes. And here's to being authentically messy.


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