Last Year in My Twenties

Last year in my twenties, how am I even supposed to celebrate? Well, actually quite a lot to be grateful, mostly, to myself, for how far I’ve gone, and how much I’ve grown.

Back in my youth, it’d be impossible to imagine life in my thirties, still single, living in a rented apartment, without anything that says success acknowledged by the general public. One step closer to this dreadful period, yet I am no longer anxious for that matter. I’ve grown less caring about how the world or others would perceive me or my life, but more into how I would feel about all of it. My life matters to me and me ONLY. Everyone is simply way too much involved to care for themselves to truly care for you. Having thought this through, most things that used to haunt me suddenly fade away.

In my late twenties, I’ve stopped to believe in myself just because others told me so. Truth is, I am honestly aware of what a great woman I’ve become, and that is the truth no longer needed to be proven by anyone else. I just know and I am saying this without a single bit of arrogance as I am equally aware of my shortcomings which are perfectly fine. I’ve got my strong suit, as well as limits, which always remind me of what I am capable of, and what I genuinely couldn’t do well in. Accept who I am and make the best out of it.

I’ve spent quite some time getting over the idea when someone says I am boring because my life basically equals to work, and how serious I can get, even when people are joking around--the tendency to take everything seriously. Quite frankly and annoyingly, both are damn right. Maybe there isn’t such thing as perfection in terms of personality. Every personality has got two sides. Why would I ever bother to struggle with something that doesn’t demand changing? Then again, would the life spent on anything other than working necessarily be meaningful and interesting? Who defines and who gets to decide? To whom it would matter? Would it do any good if everything is taken on the face value and that you take everything as anyone is willing to let out? Can’t really say there is one single correct answer. Anyway, it’s stopped bothering me once I’ve made peace with myself.

I’ve never realized how self-centred I could be until I had to confront my best friends and confess how grateful I felt each time they are there listening, and that I am constantly the one who does the talking. Truth is, I don’t even know, for instance, if or when they’ve got a promotion or salary raise. They are my closest friends and people I should care about. But I never really did, or at least proactively asked how things were going. Perhaps I supposed they would turn to me just like I did.

Last year in my twenties, I began to discover more sides of myself that I am not truly proud of, but eventually figured out a way to live with myself. Nothing to brag about, though, for the first time in my life, confessed my feelings for someone who didn’t feel the same way. Thought this would be a brave start to march into my thirties. The result didn’t matter any more once I’d said it out. What’s left of it was relief and moving on.

Since work has taken pretty much most of my time,quoting from someone LOL, it doesn’t really leave me too much time and space for anything else. When you are a woman and approach your thirties, people tend to care too much for your personal life and marriage. Well, no exception for me. Luckily, marriage has so far never become top priority. It’s simply an option, not completely necessary. Truthfully, though, it does hurt a bit when happy couples are celebrating ceaseless holidays, and taking all the public entertainment facilities. Trust me, it’s never fun sitting among them alone enjoying the movies, or dining at a corner because otherwise it’d be drawing too much attention, or when you go out shopping, sales price often goes, “buy one, get one free”, when in fact you only need one of these and can’t take or consume two. The list could go on. However, what truly hurts is when your loved ones, your beloved parents are worried sick (they would stay up all night) that their daughter is not WANTED on the marriage market. How could I ever convince them I would be wanted, one day, some day. Honestly, I’ve never felt so frustrated in my life in anything, except relationships. I’ve done too much and I’ve got nothing in the end. So be it. If it comes to either me running away, or pushing myself into marriage with someone that’s not right, I would keep running.

It’s way past my birthday, still, I would wish myself a happy life, and happy every day.

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