being twenty-something

It's currently 12:22 a.m., and I am sitting in bed, freshly showered, oiled, and "gardened," with my yellow-toned lamps on, just reflecting on life before I read and go to sleep. I work at a vaccine company—a big-girl corporate job, if you will—and every day, Monday through Friday after work, I go to the gym. I quite enjoy taking care of my body. I come home and talk to my mom and dad, laughing with them—they’re my parents, but they’re my best friends too. I read a bit of my current book, have dinner, and after spending time with my parents and being in the moment as much as I can, I excuse myself and start my night routine. It includes laying out a fragrance and a pretty pair of pajamas ("Always get ready to go to sleep no matter what," my mom always says) and making sure my room has the right ambiance (overhead lighting is banned).

I shower with my waterproof lamp on for dim lighting and get lost in the music I’ve selected for that shower. I moisturize, put on my pajamas and perfume, brush out my hair, and get into bed. At this point, if it's that type of night, I do a bit of gardening. And being on a two-month, social media-free dopamine cleanse, I pull out my book or put on a simple, comforting show to drift off into space with—books have been my preference lately. I’m always either burning a candle or incense, and the scent has Pavloved my brain into knowing it’s time to settle and rest. After scrolling through Substack to read beautiful essays and spending time with my book, I open my Open app and do a sleep meditation. Dream Machine is my favorite.

I have my best friends—three people I know would do anything for me, and I for them. I think about them every day, sending good intentions and prayers their way, and they’re enough for me. I don’t usually have plans (like, ever), but I enjoy my parents on the weekends, and that’s the cherry on top. I’m learning about love—how it hurts, but how one day it won’t anymore. I’ve learned the balance: to love with no limits, to yearn, but to keep that precious part of me reserved for myself. I’ve been exploring the limits of my mind, the morals I believe in. I’m learning not to think about how life should be one day, but rather to accept what I’m living through now and enjoy each and every day—because that’s exactly how life is meant to be lived.

I think about whether I’ll have children one day, about how my timeline should be going, and then I remind myself that although life is too short, it is also very long. I have time.

I’ve been finding more and more beauty in literature, in other women who verbalize the things my soul is made of, in the sky, in simply being. I’m learning to set boundaries, to cultivate healthy relationships with those who love me wholeheartedly as well. I’ve stopped looking around for men to give my heart to, only to be hurt and disappointed—spiraling into the most philosophical thoughts about love. I’ve learned so much, but I think my heart needs a break. I’ve come to understand that I am a gentle, highly sensitive, and vulnerable person who deserves to be treated with respect for that gentleness, sensitivity, and vulnerability.

I’m learning to accept that I am made of the people I’ve loved—that it’s not sad, but beautiful and full of the human experience. I’m learning what happiness looks like to me and realizing that my life will be what I make it, that I am the one who needs to be happy. That I should never compromise my happiness in the life that belongs to me. I’m seeing that not everyone will be happy with what my idea of happiness looks like, and that’s okay. I’m listening to songs that make me feel fulfilled and whole, songs that speak to my soul and make me feel.

I’m learning and growing. And every day, I step into the person I’m meant to be—not the person I will be, because life is happening now, not later, but the person I wake up as every morning. A bit smarter, a bit wiser, a bit more profound, maybe. And still just twenty-something years old.