Reflections of A 23 Year Old

It's official, and I suppose it has been for nearly a month now, but I'm 23. 

Weird. 

I think that's the best word to describe how I feel about it or even how the last year played out. It's just weird. In my mind, turning 23 meant that you were really an adult. Theoretically, by the time you turn 23 you've finished your undergrad, gotten a degree, gotten a job and have started your adult life. Sweet! I did all that before I turned 22. What an adult I was on my last birthday. 

And now, here I am turning 23, at a completely different place in my life than I was a year ago. I'm suppose to be older, wiser and more successful. Instead, I've regressed. Sure, I may be one year older but I'm definitely not any more successful. Last year, I had a job. This year? Not even close. Last year, I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life. This year? I have no idea. Last year, I made logical decisions. This year? I'm flying by the seat of my pants. What's happened to me? 

Last year, I was an adult. This year? I'm a lost 23 year old, with no directional compass other than my happiness. And that's the perk so far. Maybe I am wiser. Maybe I've figured out that all the things that I thought would make me happy: a job, paychecks, having it all figured out, knowing my next step before I took it, being predictable, not taking risks...didn't make me happy. They didn't make me happy! So, I quit. I quit it all. 

And all of a sudden, when I stopped chasing happiness, it found me. 

I'm really torn within myself. Am I allowed to be happy with my life, with my situation, with my story when it doesn't fit into the guidelines I created for myself years and years ago? Can someone who obviously has taken two steps forward and ten steps back be content with not being where they were?  Because I am. 

I'm strangely happy. I'm strangely content. I'm strangely at peace with not being who I thought I had to be. 

Love and Happiness,

Bethany