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Nothing’s Wrong But Nothing’s Right: Quarter Life Crisis

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One thing I pride myself on as a blogger (lol at calling myself a blogger ew) is authenticity. To a degree, we’re all a little fake on the internet, but for the most part, I don’t try to be anyone I’m not. I don’t try to come off as a perfect, type A personality with all of my sh*t together, I don’t sugarcoat my opinions to appeal to a wider audience or avoid offending anyone and I haven’t tried to be some happy go lucky granola eating meditation hippie that shops at Free People and does cleanses, despite how many likes that gets on insta. I plan on keeping the details of my life private, but I can’t in good conscience hide such a significant aspect of what I’m going through, knowing how many other people are probably going through it as well. None of this is going to make sense.

Nothing’s wrong, but nothing’s right.

I don’t feel like anyone gets me. I feel like there’s such a disconnect between what people see in me and what I see in myself, and not in a good way. I don’t want to think I’m any more intelligent, interesting or beautiful than I actually am. But I don’t want to be a slave to other people’s opinions either. And the lines between subjectivity and objectivity always seem to overlap. I’m doing my best, and not my bullsh*t best, my best best– or at least pretty close to it– but it’s not good enough, and I’m not where or who I want to be. I’m afraid. I don’t want to be the person that doesn’t show up to their class reunions because their lives are too pathetic. I’m terrified of waking up 10 years from now and none of this meaning anything. I want to be someone. I’m embarrassed by how much of a cliche millennial I sound like. This sounds like a voiceover in a mediocre indie film. This is gross and I’m genuinely ashamed, but this is also real life, and she-bros have feelings too sometimes.

 I want to actually love someone that actually loves me back. I don’t want happiness to be a chore. As much as I want to tell myself that everything will be alright, I don’t believe it. I’d be a fool to believe it, but I’d also be a fool not to. Life happens, and we make the same mistakes over and over again before we actually learn anything. Nothing is ever as simple as it seems in books or movies. I legit sound like I’m reading off of a parody twitter right now, and I want to throw up, as I’m sure you do too. Bear with me; I’m really not trying to be internet deep or anything like that, because I think it’s tacky and abrasive, but I’m trying my hardest to be honest.

I don’t know if I’m going to ever be 100% confident in myself, or if I’ll ever be successful, or if I’ll ever fall in love, but I do know that I only have so many days to make it happen, and that each one spent worrying and panicking and second guessing myself is a wasted opportunity for trying. But I also know that silencing your insecurities is much easier said than done. It’s one thing to listen to an upbeat song or read an uplifting quote and feel a burst of invincible positivity. It’s another to walk by a 6 foot blonde that weighs 120 lbs without wondering if your nose is too big or how noticeable your cellulite is. It’s another to hear about the amazing job that your acquaintance from high school has lined up right after they graduate when you’re not even sure you’re going to graduate on time. It’s another to be telling yourself you’re still young and need to enjoy being single while you can when everyone around you seems like they’ll have a ring by spring, or at least summer. I don’t know exactly what I’m going through, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m not the only one going through it, and as corny as it sounds, you should know you aren’t alone. It might be harder than we thought it would be, and it might take longer than we thought it would, but we’re going to get through it.

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Fast forward 24 years, and a really good friend of mine got pregnant at the same age my mom did, and I assumed she would keep it. She was in a stable relationship and even told me she wanted to start a family soon. And according to almost every conversation we’d ever had on the subject, she was pro life too. But she was panicking, and almost overnight her entire perspective changed. Ironically enough, just days before I attended my first March for Life, a good friend of mine got an abortion.

And I won’t lie; I was disappointed. Because like most abortions, it wasn’t the result of some freak accident of properly used but failed birth control. She was being careless. And while I did my best to make the case for keeping it without pressuring her, I completely understood her decision and didn’t judge her for a minute. Because what my friend needed more than opinions or condemnation was my support.

I am pro life, and I always have been. My views didn’t change, but my attitude did. I realized that week, after taking frantic phone call after frantic phone call, that life happens in a lot of different directions. Life happening for my mom meant a child at 24 and dropping out of law school. Life happening for my friend meant an abortion. And part of being pro life — for me at least — is being there for people in your life even when it challenges you.
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details on the blog; link in bio! #rainbowstyle
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