On youth.



In my younger years.

It sounds so weird to say that. I will be twenty-four years old in less than two weeks. In case you didn’t know, twenty-four is not old. At all.

Yet, I really, truly feel like I have already seen, done, heard, accomplished, attempted so very very much. All at the ripe old age of almost-twenty-four.

There is a definite freedom to being young, regardless of what responsibilities and obligations you have. I mean, even though I am a wife and a mother, I am still young. That doesn’t change. I still possess a lot of the factors that contribute to the typical twentysomething. On the flip side, though, there is a lot about me and my lifestyle that are completely different than that typical twentysomething.

Spontaneity, for one.

I don’t miss the spontaneity of my former life at all. AT. ALL. I never was very spontaneous to begin with (I’m a Judger, not a Perceiver, you know) but when I was younger, single, not a mother, barely a student, just a barista…I just did.

I slept in a lot and wasted a lot of valuable, precious hours doing so. I pretty much dropped out of school because I thought it was pointless & expensive & redundant. I spent a lot of money that I didn’t have, and acquired a lot of stupid things I didn’t need. I went to church when I felt like it (which was not a lot) and when I did, I didn’t emotionally or spiritually connect to what I was hearing.

I don’t miss it.

I may despise the spontaneity and aimlessness and wandering of being young, but I definitely enjoy just being right now. Being focused. Being present. Being in the moment, soaking in whatever wonderful thing I’m witnessing my family doing.

Like watching my son smile at my husband. He’s learned to do that now. It’s amazing to see, and I’m so thankful my twenty-four year old self can appreciate the beauty behind it.

Even if I had to endure a lot of “spontaneous” credit card debt to get here.