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This Is 25

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There’s a silly cultural reference and internet phenomena that claims the brain’s prefrontal cortex is considered “fully developed” by the age of 25. In society, 25 is often the age that you’re expected to have most things in life “all figured out” as a mature, settled down adult. But, a month into being a 25 year old myself—here’s what I’ve learned. 

— Just a handful of memes about turning 25 that I found funny.

It’s okay to not have everything exactly figured out right now. Life is full of constant evolution and unforeseen circumstances. So while we may wish to have full control and handle of our lives, because at this age that feels like the “responsible” thing to do, it’s okay to feel lost—as long as you don’t let your circumstances dictate your outlook on life and overall mindset. From a young age, I’ve known firsthand that while you cannot control your circumstances, you can choose to make the best out every situation. In a day and age where it’s easy to compare yourself to everyone else you see posting their seemingly “perfect” lives on social media, it’s important to realize your journey is your own, and there’s no “correct” way to navigate this world we all live in. 

So for me, 25 is finding joy in the small things. Looking around a room, at a dinner table, surrounded by your loved ones, and feeling immense gratitude. It is rediscovering the things that used to make you happy and provide comfort in your youth, such as the movies or music you used to play, and feeling that same sense of joy all over again.

25 is feeling soul-crushing nostalgia in childhood photographs or home videos—realizing you are looking at a moment in time that you cannot get back, and still feeling content, knowing now that you’re exactly where you are meant to be, and that everything that happens in one’s life can either shape you, or break you. It is realizing how far you’ve come and how much farther you have, still, to go. 

For me, 25 was about making a nearly week-long spectacle of my birthday, not out of conceit, but purely from a place of gratitude for life, and all the people I’m lucky enough to have around in mine.

Though only a month into being twenty-five, I vow in this moment to lean more into this gift I have—to keep expressing my thoughts in written words. In time I will continue to treat this blog like my own open journal and share my creations with the world, not under confines of a strict schedule, but freely, as they come to me.

So whether you’re embracing a new age with your “fully developed frontal lobes” or experiencing a “quarter-life crisis”, remember that while growing up seems scary, life is what you make it—this is 25.

One Year of My Debut Poetry Book ‘If I Bare My Soul’!

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One year ago today, I took a leap of faith (no pun intended), and released my first-ever book. It was something that had always been this distant dream of mine, but one that seemed like so far-fetched of an idea. However when I found self-publishing, I was finally able to officially pursue this project last January. By July, I had a complete collection of poems and strings of stories woven together straight from my heart.

July 10th, 2024, a day that was supposed to be marked by excitement and self-fulfillment, instead had a dark cloud looming overhead. By this day, it had already been three days since myself and many others in my whole city had been without electricity. Though I was briefly able to find just enough cell service to share my project, by then every place around me that once looked so full of life, seemingly turned into a ghost town. I spent many sleepless nights in a car, in the thick of summer’s heat, just praying to get out of this testing time as I’d deliriously watch the rise and fall of the sun. It wouldn’t be until two days later that I’d be able to celebrate my debut book having been published.

Fast forward a year later, as I observe all the lives affected by the recent devastating floods in my home state of Texas, I’m reminded of my gratitude for life. While my journey as a self-published author didn’t begin as planned, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know now that we can have all these things in our lives meticulously planned out the way we’d hope for them to go, but these expectations might never come to fruition precisely as such, and we have to accept that. 

When I say I poured my all into this project, I truly mean it. Admittedly, I haven’t found the words to say (or write), since I spilled my entire soul on those pages bound in this book. It’s a tough feeling, that maybe this book is all I had in me, that I’ve got nothing left to say. Still, I continue to seek inspiration everywhere. I’ve learned to never force art, but to let creativity find me. So while it may seem like I’m achieving nothing in this period of stillness, I am giving myself this time to soak up life like a sponge, to examine the world’s stories, in order to authentically create as I feel the passion to do so. This is only the beginning of my story and I can’t wait to find out what’s next for me.

I want to express my deepest appreciation to anyone who has ever supported me along the way in this journey I’m on as a writer. To any and all family members, friends, or strangers that have purchased my book, I could never thank you enough. To me, this book wasn’t about the performance or numbers, but simply about having a physical representation of my passion for written expression. This was to prove to nobody but myself, that I can set upon anything I put my mind to, and that if my art should speak to anyone else in the world, then it shall find its way to the right people. 

Happy one year of If I Bare My Soul!

✍🏻📖🫀