Since Kaitlin is keeping me from having a boring post about how my husband is the best part about my life and how wranglin’ friends’ schedules and bills are the worst, I now have to find something else to talk about.

So, without further ado, the best and worst things about my life are two different sides of the same animal.

The best thing is that I feel like I’ve spent most of my life trying to get to this point. At twelve I wasn’t quite a teenager. At fourteen I was out of the tween years but wasn’t Sweet Sixteen yet. At sixteen I hadn’t hit eighteen yet, which meant I still wasn’t an adult. At eighteen, I still had that blasted “1” in front of my age. I was an adult, but not really.

Now that I’m past twenty-one, I feel like I’m finally out of the waiting game. I can finally settle in and stop trying to accelerate ageing. The only thing I’m waiting for now is for that big insurance drop in my mid-twenties and being able to rent cars. Other than that, there aren’t really any gates left. From here on out the numbers won’t really matter anymore because it’s all about the milestones.

I’m here, so now what? I am starting to understand the momentum and weight of being a human. Over the last couple of years I’ve accomplished hard things and have successfully navigated them. I have not arrived, but I definitely don’t feel like a child anymore. I have my own life, my own apartment, a husband, a dog, a full-time job.

All of those things come with new responsibilities. I can’t spend every evening at Caribou hanging out with friends working on algebra problems over Campfire Mochas. Why? I don’t have that many free nights anymore. I know algebra, the Caribou is gone, and I’ve switched to lattes (and cappuccinos for very serious days). My life is visibly shifting before my eyes.

The downside to this is that I can see people around me who have achieved great things but I have little concept of how they got there. I can see where they are, I can see where I’ve been, but the middle is still a mystery. Despite feeling kind of “grown up” some days, I still don’t have things figured out.

The thing that really gets me is those days that I feel like I’m in a constant lurch from being thrown around by circumstances that befall me. It makes me nervous and I worry that I’ll be forever haphazardly stumbling through life. I worry that I might get stuck on a level, forever doomed to remain young and inexperienced.

However, on those days, I’ve found the best way to get through them is to remember that I can do hard things. I’ve pushed through worse situations and that I’m very capable to handle them. I just need to keep pressing on. My life is not over. It’s not a race. I will (most likely) be alive next year. I just have to breathe, take care of whatever is within my control and keep going. (And it’s nice to have people in my life to help me remember that.)

Photo credit: Flickr / cogdog