I turned twenty-eight this week: celebrating myself and reflecting on this new chapter and year of life.
I've spent a lot of my life attempting to fit into a mold that I thought was made for me, only to find that it didn't feel quite right: it was too snug or too loose and always, always so frustrating.
I've finally taken the time to build a mold around myself that fits almost perfectly, even if there are kinks and flaws that poke and nudge here and there. It's mine and feels right and I'm quickly finding happiness and peace in my very own place.
I really love it.
I've stepped outside of traditions, expectations, and ideas that were not my own. I've redefined who I am by my own standards and I think the next year will only reflect on that more.
I love this number. I love this age. I love this life. I love who I am and I love who I know I can become.
I've met some amazing people who have furthered my dreams, changed my expectations, made me think and cry and hope and dream and LOVE.
I am blessed beyond measure for these reasons and a million more, even on my very worst of days.
Quirky and weird and hopeful and happy, I can't wait to see what the next year holds.