And while the magic was in full force, I could not shake a thought that apprehended just about everything else for me that day. I was haunted by a simple and unfair question: Why do we embrace change in nature, yet find ourselves reluctant to accept change in each other?
Read MoreThe news groans on as the background noise to my morning. I paint my face confident. Caffeine enters my bloodstream, and my eyes widen just enough to finish my mascara. I slip into the shoes I bought in the junior section of Kohls and shrug into my worn sweater.
As 7 am rolls around, I load into my car with my oversized bag, coffee, and lunch tote and turn on the radio. My morning commute commences.
Read MoreThe truth is, when we put stock in something as changeable as the weather, we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. In high school, I looked forward to college. In college, I lived semester to semester waiting for the next new thing. And now, the next new thing is less certain. It’s hard sometimes to settle into the present without imagining a better alternative.
Read MoreI have come home every day for the last three weeks exhausted. My feet aching, my ankles covered in blisters from shoes that I believed to be comfortable but have thus far betrayed me, my back damp from sweating on the subway platform and my hair frizzy from the humid city air. (Gross, I know. I’m a vision.)
Read MoreI have a small poodle named Bella. She is scared of most things, and I do mean most things—the wrinkle of a grocery bag, the sound of her collar tag clanging against her food bowl, men—all these and more send her into a fit of shivers. Though the clinking of dishware doesn’t send me into fight-or-flight mode, I can relate to this pup saturated like a soggy sponge with fear and anxiety.
Read MoreWindrose is everything you (and I) could hope for in a magazine. It is a collection of real stories we can all relate to in some form or fashion. It’s for those currently in the throes of adulthood—facing new challenges, covering uncharted territory, grieving past phases—and learning to carve out a life all their own. It’s a unifying, uplifting work of words and art that continues to remind me of one very important thing:
Despite my endless doubts and fears and insecurities, I’m not alone.
And neither are you.
Read MoreAs confident as I had been in my decision at the time, walking away from my glamorous magazine job—and along with it, my lifelong “dream” career—left an emotional scar that refused to heal, no matter how many times I told myself it was for the best. A year later, I was still feeling an incredible amount of doubt. Perhaps, even, a tinge of regret. And because I was scared of what people would think, I refrained from talking (or writing) about it.
Read MoreI was describing my new apartment to one of my coworkers when he said, quite poetically, "You have an apartment, but not a home." He was right—I was in the middle stages, in that I had a key, I had a lease, and there were half-opened suitcases scattered about my room, but I didn't have any furniture, I didn't have a bed, or even hangars.
I very much was in the process of creating a home.
Read MoreGrowth is slower and more subtle than I used to think it was. It doesn’t always look like milestones or hurdles jumped, and it’s hard to document. My journal pages from the last two years don’t look all that different from each other; there aren’t huge leaps made from one day to the next. But over the months, my voice reads a little happier. A little more hopeful for the future.
Read MoreSince graduating in May, I’ve felt tossed around more than a few times. I know what it is to let circumstances dictate the kind of friend I’ll be and the kind of day I’ll have. Things that feel urgent constantly rise up and demand my attention, from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. For the past few months, nearly every day has looked different, and I hid behind my jobs to excuse myself from the hard work of discipline.
Read MoreI turned 24 on Tuesday.
My first instinct was to look at the people around me. The ones posting on social media.
They’d written books, were writing articles for magazines I still only dream will send me an acceptance letter one day. They’d started podcasts. Spent two years living in Asia. Found the loves of their lives. Wore diamond rings on the fourth finger of their left hands. Spoke at the United Nations. Worked in refugee camps around the world.
Read MoreEven so, I’ve been surprised at the feeling of worthlessness that has come alongside this period of quiet. The questions in my mind of, what am I contributing to anybody? Am I allowed to still be “resting” or is this really just laziness now? Is everyone around me wondering what I’m doing with my time? Am I paranoid to be thinking like this? If I’m secure in my identity and my decisions about how to spend my time, where has this fear of worthlessness come from?
Read MoreBy not making any decisions, I had made my decision. Life was happening all around me, it was happening to me, but I had no role in it. Weeks passed, and I decided I didn’t want to be a bystander in my own story. I wanted to do. I wanted to choose.
Read MoreIt seemed like everywhere I turned these past few months I heard that I was entering the strangest year of my life.
I heard the word miserable more than a few times, confusing and wonderful used in the same sentences. Now, on the other side of this first untethered month, I get it. There’s no end date on my job description, no promise I’ll return to what’s been normal for the past four years.
Read MoreI have always been the quiet one. I’ve never spoken up in classes, never could talk to the person standing next to me in the elevator, never been described as bubbly or charismatic. Every start of a new school year, ever strike of midnight on New Year's Eve, I had one resolution.
Just talk more, I'd tell myself. Be outgoing.
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