It’s Official….

I’m a grown-up.

The process started when I turned 25.  For years I was mistaken for an intern at least once a week on the elevator and suddenly it stopped.  I felt different and looked relatively different but I was still insecure and uncertain about things.

For an inexplicable reason in the past couple weeks I’ve started to feel different again but in a good way.  I’m more confident about what I like and what I want.  I feel like I have an identity and know where I belong.

The sense of belonging is especially nice.  I spent so long (first 4 pictures and the 19 before) feeling very alone and like I would always be alone.  Danny changed me in a lot of ways and helped me be a person I wanted to be but now it’s more than that.

The first year of marriage was really hard.  Harder than I could ever admit at the time.  I didn’t expect it to difficult because we’d been living together for so long but it was.  I’d go through period of doubt and question what I wanted.  Thankfully, year two has been a breeze.  We tried a lot of things last year to figure out what worked for us financially, with our families, at home and with each other.  The work has paid off because now I feel comfortable.  I’m relaxed and can breathe.  I find more time to think and be reflective and looking back I think about how fun even the hard times were.

As everyone knows I love our apartment.  It has all the decorative elements I want.  Looking at pictures the other day I was reminded of our other apartment when we had no furniture and slept in a twin bed (and that’s being generous it was really a child’s bed).  That apartment was also always messy and now our house rarely is.

It’s little things but they add up.  Maybe it’s more than being grown-up; perhaps it’s happiness.  The feeling of pure contentment.  I prefer to think of it as maturity; however, because I’m fatalistic and fear that good and bad must even out and I don’t want to think about anything negative.

So for the moment I will embrace my joy and call it maturity.

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