I’m not in the mood to write. I am still fleeting from the celebration of my 26th year. But I can’t let this one pass. I need something to remember it.

On the morning of September 10, I woke up and it hit me. I’m 26. My deepest concern during that moment was this: Will it still be called quarter life crisis if I am already past the age of 25?

Sure, you can all say I am in denial. When asked about my age, I answer with 23 or 24 as if I am certainly right. But hey, the joke's on me, alright?

Adult-ing has taken its toll on me that a moment of denying it makes me feel so glorious.

Things turn serious when you realize the pressure of age (and also the pressure of paying the bills). Ideally, at the age of 26, we should all be matured individuals working our ass off somewhere at the top of the corporate ladder. Nope, no more 9 to 6 pace because we can just get on and off whenever we want to. We should be the boss by now.

Ideally, we should all be living on our own in a place of our preference (city living or suburban living, your choice), driving around the ‘hood with a red car, the fruit of our insanely huge paycheck.

Yep, if you asked me five years ago on where I see myself come this point in time? That’s my answer.

But I am nowhere near the ideals I have set for myself the day I stepped out of college. I do not work at the top of the corporate ladder, I still have to go through the 9 to 6 work pace and still get deducted for my tardiness, and nope, none of that own pad in the city, the red car to drive around the hood, and not even that insanely huge paycheck.

At 23, I remember weeping my way to all the rabbit holes I got myself into. It was that year in my early twenties when I wanted so much to achieve my ideals. I had a good thing going on back then, but I wanted everything to be perfect.

I put a lot of pressure in myself and felt disappointed to a certain point when I realized I was nowhere near the kind of person I want to be. Remembering that, all I could ever think about was this photo:
25 was a good year. I think it was that year when I have finally, finally started to figure things out. It wasn’t easy. There are so many bumps in the road and I couldn’t even remember how I did it. But it was the year when I finally feel fine.

I’ve done so well compared to my previous years and I just couldn’t help but feel #blessed.

My career hasn’t been better. I found my way back to writing as a magazine reporter. My current company acquired a magazine, which turned out to be an opportunity for me. There are many hurdles along the way, but I managed to balance both my tasks as a Web Editor and a Reporter. I could not help but feel happy about doing a few profile stories of today’s successful men and women and finally get my name published.

It was something I am truly thankful for. My writing needs a lot of work. Most of my stories still go through bloody QA, but it wasn’t so bad at all. I am enjoying the perks of going out, meeting new people, and discovering different industries. I wish to be able to continue this kind of job, even after the time to quit comes.

Surprisingly, I am also doing well with relationships—no, not the romantic kind. I have made new friends who made most of my time at work easy and fun. I never really thought I’d find them. The squad makes things okay for me at work. They keep me company and they have been about fun. They were there when I thought I had no one.

It is also important to mention that these guys are the ones responsible for making my day truly memorable. I don't really get surprises that often, most especially during my birthday but this group put in all the effort to make me happy. Surprises went on the entire day—gifts, birthday cake and flowers, and a serenade—just when I thought I have exhausted all my tears (of joy). lels.


It was spectacular. Thank you guys, for all the effort you put in to make this day amazing.

Love-wise, I have done a good job dodging trouble when it came knocking on my back door. It wasn’t easy to say no to someone who sees you, who pays attention to everything about you, who actually listens. But I guess the best thing I’ve learned about love at 25, it is to never feel bad about knowing what you want. And I've read this somewhere: it is not your fault it is not what you want. And I could not agree more.

Although the thought of saying no to something that makes you feel again is quite as scary as realizing there may never be another one like this, I will find reverie in the fact that I went for something more, something that I think I deserve.

Somehow the thought of knowing what you want helps you discern the kind of things and people you want to associate your heart with. It is nice, relieving to say the least, to finally, finally feel okay about things I can't get, the people who have turned me down over and over again, the people I have hurt while I was doing the right thing, and the things that will probably never happen again.

At 25, I have also learned to let go of the things that are holding me back. To finally understand defeat and accept it. To finally be okay about the things I cannot change, and to finally understand what it was like to love unconditionally. I have never realized I am capable of loving someone without asking them anything, but to be okay. And to me, that was a big step toward acceptance and maturity.

I was walking on my way home last night and I couldn't help but think of the times my friends have noticed the difference in attitude and aura. I was happier today than I ever had in the past two or three weeks. Some friends teased me about the sudden change like some sort of a new love prospect was behind it. But I want them to hold their horses.

Today I was happier, and I want to hold on to that thought for a little longer as if it will make me resilient to pain, to sadness. Nothing about what's going on now says that 26 won't be a good year because I know it will be.