Moments in the soul

I turned 25 last week; it was kind of a let down, nothing brilliant happened, but nothing terrible either. It kind of just was. In saying that, I was talking with a dear friend last night, lamenting the march of time, when it dawned on me just how far I've come. I may not have the long term boyfriend and I may still be living with family, but I've done a lot in that time.

At 20, I was a mess. In March of that year, something terrible happened to me, and I survived. It wasn't pretty, but I did it. I still find it difficult to say and I know that there are maybe two (?three) people in my life that actually know what happened, and one who I am sure suspects (since she was there that night), but I can't bring myself to tell other people - who wants to give other people that ugliness? I know it would help to explain things I do and feel to people, but I can't hurt them and change the way they see me. I used to want something tragic in my life, so I could be that movie/tv heroine who is cared for and protected, but now I have it, I can't let people know.

At 21, I got asked to leave my job and my flat. So I left London. Even as that man chased me down the street and my face was streaming with tears, I knew that someday in the future, this moment would be comical. And it is! I got chased down a London street (with my 90L backpack on my back, my daypack on my front and towing a 20kg suitcase) by a man who thought that I stole his remotes!!! WTF? How does that happen? I left England, and went back home and healed from the events of the previous two years.

At 22, I graduated my bachelors (delayed satisfaction!) and completed my first post grad....which led me to my masters. It very nearly led me back down the path of my eating disorder, but I pulled that back in. I got my awesome job at The Zoo, which I am still at now. I have been able to grow at this job, to the point that I am now the sole research person across The Zoo, The Dungeon, The Pantry and the other Oh Yeah, That Service. This scares me on various points, but it's okay, you know?

At 23, I started writing my masters thesis. There were many tears, caused in large part by my batshit crazy supervisor. I still can't believe that she hauled me in front of the Head of Department! Bad luck for her that I was writing grant applications at the time, for I turned up at that meeting with excellent documentation of the timeline and progress status reports. The HoD was ineffectual in large part, and I definately felt that I was in the wrong spot (power-wise) as a student, he was going to back her all the way. Thankfully, I still had one card up my sleeve: proof that she marked my lit review twice (by mistake!) and in one copy said that I should do this and that, and in the other said that it was fine. They were exactly the same! Thankfully a friend was able to point me to another superviosr who loved my work and thought that my plan was brillant and on track. I had lunch with him the other day, and he still managed to inspire me to write it up for publication.

At 24, I sat in an internet cafe in LA (after my conference in Mexico was canceled) and found that I had not only passed my masters thesis - I had gotten second class, first division honours. Seriously. I totally wigged out but I didn't care. I had passed! Me! It was an awesome ending to a (mostly) awesome trip. After being terrified of traveling around Europe on my own, and settling to travel with people who didn't really care for me, I managed to travel around the States and Canada alone! I handled crises of various sorts, I made an executive decision to travel to Canada to see my darling friend (with no idea if my travel insurance would cover it) and did it all on my lonesome. I didn't care if other people thought that it was weird that I was traveling/sightseeing alone, because that meant that I got to see and do things that I wanted. Yes, it would have been nice and cheaper to have someone with me, but I didn't and it wasn't the end of the world. I also sat, and failed, the med school entrance exam - and lived. I did a two triathalons, I did a tough guy. I tried things outside my comfort zone because I realised that I would be ok.

Now, at 25, I have sat (and failed again!) the med school exam, and I'm ok with my applications. Someone has to have the bottom score and it might as well be me. I most likely won't get in, and that's okay. I have a back up plan that involves earning more monies and trying again. I may not have it all, but at least I've done things. I don't want to repeat the last five years, I want to see the next five years.