Last year of my twenties; what a strange thing to come to terms with. Telling people that I am 29 feels so… wrong? Surreal? It comes with all sorts of emotions, fear of what is to come and constantly reassessing whether I am where I am “supposed” to be in life yet feeling a little more confident in general. It’s confusing stuff.
I never really believed people when they said confidence gets easier when you get older but every day it gets a tiny bit more clear. For one, I started swimsuit shopping this month. We are heading to Mexico for our wedding here in April, and I needed something I would feel good in. I don’t enjoy swimsuit shopping, normally.
I would always be stuck on having this idea that I should be walking in around in a bikini, because otherwise I have just given up.
After the 5th little bikini that I squished my body into, I finally had enough. Why am I torturing myself and forcing my body into something that just isn’t working for me.
Why should I have to change my body just to suit it? This needs to work for the body I have, not the body that the media, or the younger me, thinks I “should” have.
It was a realization that hit me all of a sudden. What am I doing? I don’t need this. I need things that make me feel so good, right here in this moment. Right now.
And why the hell can’t I have that? Because I never believed that I could.
I wasn’t “allowed” to embrace it.
It was expected to always want the body I was told I wanted, but it doesn’t have to be like that any longer.
Long story short, coming to terms with 29 is one thing but the confidence that comes with it is a great way to help accept it. I’ll take those brief moments everyday, hoping it just gets to be more clear as time goes on.
Confidence is finding me, or maybe I am finding it?