I turn 25 today.
Only twenty-five and I am a wife and a mother of two. I don't ever remember feeling so glad to be another year older, hopefully wiser. I feel calm and introspective, both feet planted firmly on the ground. I've always been a dreamer, I was always searching and yearning for more. At thirteen I longed for freedom so I could find my purpose, freedom to be the person I wished I was. There is nothing I wanted more than independence. In old diaries I wrote of escaping to a city rich in art and culture, maybe with a handsome boy and a cat. I'd write and explore and live every day to the fullest. And I did. I did this.
Now everything has been re-purposed and I find myself digging back into my roots. I find courage in my mother's words and happiness in my daughter. Every day I appreciate my husband more and like myself better. I've learned a lot and this only serves to remind me there is still so much I do not know.
I am happy where I am right now. Some things are on hold and some are moving steadily along. Parts of me are in limbo and others are sprouting and so alive. I am happy to still write, embark on small adventures, and wake up joyous to find a brand-new day. Young, ready, strong, naive. Still a dreamer, always a dreamer.