Reflections on a Twenty-Fifth

Today I am twenty-five years old, which I know is hard to believe, considering I hardly look a day over twelve. AHEM.

When I was younger (by which I mean both when I was eight and when I was twenty-one), I assumed that by the time I was twenty-five I would be Big And Important and be very wise in the Ways of the World. Oh past Mary Frances. How you make me laugh.

Turns out that I am neither big nor important, and that I am MOST CERTAINLY not wise in the ways of the world. I am married to my first serious boyfriend, live in a Mid-Atlantic suburb, have never held a full-time job, am completely equivocal as to what step I want to take next career and school-wise, and am two photos away from becoming a veritable Crazy Dog Lady. Last year I had a nervous breakdown, learned that my Grandmother was dying, had a miscarriage, and failed to finish my master's thesis. Phew.

But (and you knew there was a 'but' coming). But. I can say with complete certainty that I have never been happier or healthier. Every day I can feel myself sinking a little bit deeper into my own skin and - and this is the wonderful part - actually enjoying where I am. I KNOW. Crazy, right? Who knew that taking care of yourself could yield such a result? [Answer: Probably everyone except for past Mary Frances. OOPS.] Would I like to repeat this last year? HELLS TO THE NO. [sidebar: Twenty-four, you will not be missed even a little bit.] But man, it feels so awesome to have survived the year, to have come out on the other side of twenty-four in (mostly) one piece, and to know not that I will be ok, but that I am ok.

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I have no illusions that twenty-five will be A Perfect Year. I know that there will be days when I want nothing more than to hit the snooze button all day, hide from the world, and pretend I don't exist. There will be days when I don't want to go to work, when I don't want to exercise, and when I want to live on a diet of popcorn, fleur de sel caramels and lattés (I mean, WHAT this has totally never been my diet. Especially not this past May when I was frantically finishing the semester. No indeed.). There will be days when I look in the mirror and all I can think is, "I HATE MY ARMS." There will be days when washing my face and brushing my teeth at the end of the day seems like an insurmountable obstacle. In sum, there will be days when I feel like this:

But on the other hand, if I've learned anything this year, I've learned that there will also be days when I feel like this:

In spite of all the CRAZY that twenty-four brought along with it, I have to say that I have had more days like this in the past year than in any year previous: days of infectious laughter, deliciously long conversations and visits, and real Joy. My hope for twenty-five is that I will have even more days like this one. Days when I am laughing so hard I might cry, have not a care in the world at that moment, and am completely happy right where I am.

I can't wait to share it all with you - the good and the bad. Happy Birthday to me!