It hurts. Lately, more often than not, my heart hurts. I have been told it is the time of life. My mid-twenties. But nothing anyone says can lessen the pain. Not self-help books, not the internet, especially not Instagram, showcasing the highlight reel of everyone’s lives.
It is as though I walked through the door, and there is no way back. I turned around into the loudest silence, the most anxious stillness. Yearning to once again be the child kicking around the soccer ball until dinner was ready. But armed with the wisdom that only comes with age.
Some are getting married, having kids. Some are beginning real jobs, complete with a cubicle, benefits, and paid vacation. Some are travelling.
And me, I do not know how I feel. I feel energy shifting day by day, deep within my core. I know I am stepping into my power, slowly but surely, day by day. But occasionally, more often than not, that pang deep in my soul yearns for memories of the past, and I cannot explain why. It is a peculiar feeling. Nostalgia, it may be.
My first instinct upon feeling these strange and sad yearnings is to open Facebook, scroll Instagram, make a snack, or watch Netflix. Anything to fill the void, numb me, dull the ache in my heart.
But lately, I have been feeling the aches. And sitting in them. Accepting them and holding space for them to be what they will be. And I trust in the universe that everything will be okay. That I will survive, and although I can never go back through that door to rewrite all of the unfinished stories of life before adulthood, I can step into a new door that is open in front of me. The door of today, of now, of this moment.
I stand in the doorway, terrified out of my mind, and then I embrace the uncertainty and step through, feeling the fear and doing it anyway, like I always knew I would.