No longer feelin' 22

It seemed like it wasn't too long ago when I was bobbing along to Taylor Swift's 22 with my earphones plugged in, oblivious to the world. I was almost 17 when Taylor Swift released the song 22 — the prime age of blind optimism. It was safe to say that I had everything going for me. My teenage years were every bit what I wanted it to be; even if I carry some regrets, everything I did was what I yearned for, at that point.

Adulthood, on the other hand, has been less than kind. The twists and turns sent me crashing every time. Now, almost into my mid-twenties, I'm beginning to realise that there are some battles you'll never win.  I tried to plan ahead, to predict my life a few years down the road, but as I have learned, things hardly go according to plan.

I mean, if I stopped being so hard on myself, I did pretty okay as a 22-year-old. I stepped (more like forced myself) out of my comfort zone and dabbled in sectors I previously never explored. Enjoyed most, hated some, gained new experiences and made new connections along the way.

I guess I still need to keep reminding myself that I'm really doing fine. I'm okay. I need to take things one step at a time. There's still a long way ahead.