I don’t know why, but turning 23 scared the shit out of me.
Where am I? What am I doing? Where am I going?
All these questions, the ones that had burned in my ears for the past few years….they’re suddenly compounded.
I see friends with their degrees, getting married, getting dream jobs. I see my fingernails bent back and my back aching; my job eats away my soul. I am broke, I am single. My job makes me miserable.
I’ll be in Europe soon, but damn…how am I who I am and still ok with it?
On paper, I’m a fucking loser.
23 is my wake-up call.
I am over this. I am better than this. I wasn’t given the same advantages as most of my friends. But I am exceptional.
I am good enough to have the things I want. Even if I haven’t had the support and financial means to make my dreams come true.
I am good enough, on my own.
No mom, no dad
No boyfriend / girlfriend
I am alone in my fight to find myself.
And when I find myself, 23 year old Abbie is going to be proud as fuck.