well… a lot sure can change
Last I checked, I was spiraling on the couch wondering if I’d spend the rest of my 20’s searching ‘how to quit your job without destroying your life’ while watching my dreams slowly expire in the drafts folder. Fast forward a few months, and suddenly… I’m planning a move to New York City, enrolling in grad school to study fashion marketing, and genuinely excited to leave the house again.
Which is kind of insane, if you know the backstory.
Because not long ago, I wrote about how life handed me lemons… and that was literally it. No sugar, no sparkle, no instructions. Just me and a pile of sour fruit wondering what the hell I was supposed to do with all of it. There was also ‘the life I’m not living yet’ - the one where I unpacked the vision-board version of myself. The girl I could see so clearly but couldn’t quite reach. She felt real, but far away. The kind of life you dream about - the life I was working so hard to make real, but was just stuck in a different timeline.
And now here I am. Somehow caught in the wild plot twist where things actually start to shift - not because everything got easier, but because I stopped waiting to be chosen and started choosing myself and my own journey.
I applied to grad school on a bit of a whim. I committed to moving. I started making real plans instead of hypothetical ones. I built momentum from nothing but a stubborn belief that life had to be more than just surviving the work week. And honestly? That girl from the drafts folder? She’s about to be walking to coffee shops in a new city. Sitting in a new apartment, planning how to decorate. Studying fashion marketing in one of the cities she used to romanticize since she was just a kid - hearing about it just once but knowing in her soul something was special about that place.
It won’t be perfect - I’ll probably be broke, confused half the time, and still waiting for life to hand me something other than a minor inconvenience. But the difference is now I’m actually going to be in it. Living the beginning of the chapter I used to write about and dream of.
There’s something strange that happens when you finally cross the invisible line between longing and living. You don’t become a whole new person. You’re still you - but now you’re the version of you that decided to try again. The one who took the first real step, even if it was messy and awkward and mildly terrifying.
And if nothing else, that deserves to be celebrated.
So here’s to the late bloomers. The timeline renegades. The people who needed just a little longer to find the door, and then kicked it open like they owned the place.
Because yes - a lot can change.
Especially when you decide it has to.
