"Everybody dies, but not everybody lives." -Drake
Written: April 20, 2018
Dear 25-year-old self,
Wow I can’t believe I’m 25 years old. I’ve planned and thought about this moment for a long time. Honestly, all my hard work was for this moment. 25 is a milestone. It’s the moment to say I’ve been doing the damn thing. At this age, there is so much I pray that I’ve accomplished. First, I pray I’ve graduated from grad school with at least a 3.5 GPA and I’m a member of CSI, AAMFT, IAMFC, and Int. MFT honor society. Second, I’m praying I’ve obtain or working towards my licenses as an LMFT and LPC. Third, I hope I’ve became a member of a sorority. Fourth, I’m praying my book career is exceling and I’m a national best seller with my own publishing company. Fifth, I’m praying I’ve learned to stop worrying and having anxiety about everything. Six, I pray I’ve finally united with a God-fearing man that supports my dreams and goal (vice versa) that wants to marry me. Seventh, I hope I’ve moved to Charlotte and purchased an Audi. Eighth, I pray I’ve started my mentoring program or given back to my hometown in some way. Also, I’m praying some of my closet friends (Myesha, Labria, Casey, Kareem, Sasha, Aleeka, & Tee) are still by my side because finding true friends that will accept you for you is hard to find these days. Lastly, I pray that I’ve learned to accept that I will make mistakes and I learn to forgive myself. Forgive myself is something I’ve struggled with for years but by my 25th birthday I’m praying I’ve overcame this flaw.
Regardless of what I’ve achieved at this age, you’re a wonderful strong black woman who can do anything you set your mind too even when you doubt yourself. You have the power to do anything and I do mean anything you set out to do. Never give up, you’ve got this.
Happy 25th birthday
-A proud black queen
Reading that letter is bittersweet. Bitter because out of all the things I hoped to have achieved by 25 unfortunately none of these goals have been met. I’m not done with school yet and honestly, I’m in the mist of switching careers. I’m over the mental health field, it’s draining and I plan to revisit it at a later time in life. I still want to write books and so much more within the reading/writing industry but I’m scared. I thought I had met the man of my dreams and literally days before my 25th birthday we had our final argument and I’ve been single ever since. I haven’t moved yet, I lost 3 out of the 7 friends I mentioned, & learning to forgive myself is still my greatest challenge.
I remember over the last few years every time I was stressing about 25, my momma would say “Enjoy life”, “Who’s to say you’re going to live to see 25.”, and my all time favorite statement “What’s the big deal with wanting to have everything by 25.” Deep sigh, everything my momma said to me over the years was true. I should’ve been enjoying my life instead of stressing 24/7. Plus this pandemic as well as the news I received about my health put a lot of shit into perspective for me. 2020 was supposed to be my year to thrive and have a hot girl summer. Instead people were dying by the day, hot girl summer was canceled, I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) in July, and not to mention 10 days before my 25th birthday after getting my second colonoscopy my doctor informed me the ulcerative colitis has progressed to moderate Crohn’s disease.
So I stopped taking birth control in February 2020, and my cycle didn’t return which prompted some doctor visits including a blood test and a vaginal ultrasound which determined I had PCOS. It’s crazy how once I stopped birth control I started to heavily experience PCOS symptoms from excessive weight gain to acne to ovarian cyst to some of my edges falling out. I cried so bad on the phone with my momma after that second OBGYN appt. in July. I looked at my family goals on Pinterest and felt defeated. At the time me & him were already going through it and now the possibility of not being able to have kids was added to the equation.
Literally a month later on August 14th, I had my second colonoscopy and the ulcerative colitis has progressed to moderate Crohn’s disease. Surprisingly I took this news very well or should I say I brushed it off because I didn’t want to process and deal with this news. I enjoyed my 25th birthday. My pajama party with brunch was everything and of course my trip to Dominican Republic was amazing. Now it’s mid-September and I’m at another doctor appt for a follow up, where I’m informed that most patients start having precancerous cells from Crohn’s disease after 8 years and I’m going into year 3 of having an inflammatory bowel disease.
To sum it all up during my early 30’s my chances of getting cancer has increased tremendously and whenever I’m ready to have kids there’s a 50/50 chance I’ll have to do fertility treatment or some type of surgery to clean out the lining of my uterus due to me having PCOS. Damn, at this milestone age I just found out I have two lifelong conditions, I’m going through a breakup, and somehow I’m surviving during a pandemic. Honestly, after that doctor visit I realized I’ve been stressed for what, none of my life plans were going as planned, & life is short so I should enjoy it. I swear it takes everything in me some days to not cry about this shit, but it is what it is. I could easily fall into a depression or be anxious about what my life may be like during my 30’s, but what good is that going to do. Tomorrow isn’t promised and whether I die from cancer or can’t have kids I’m still able to do so many other things and that’s what I’m choosing to focus on. From the outside looking in, nobody can tell I have these issues and when I choose to tell certain people they’re always shocked because I make an effort everyday even when I’m feeling like shit to not let it get me down.
Now the sweet side of my letter is I’m mentally in a better place than I was 3 years ago. The shit that’s happened over this last year would’ve damn near made me suicidal in 2017/2018. I’ve also been more at peace since I stopped working in the mental health field, I swear to God the last four years of being in that field was rewarding yet exhausting. God gave me the chance to experience love and enjoy the perks of being in my first real adult relationship. God removed certain friends for a reason and I gained a new friend. I still have the rest of my life to write books, move to a new city, start a new career, and achieve any other goals I have in mind. For so long I was dreading turning 25 and I felt like my life was going to be over at this age but life is just beginning. At this age the brain is fully developed and I’m more sure of myself which in turn will motivate me to apply pressure behind some of these goals and dreams.
2021 just started and I have a lot of shit I want to get done by 26 and even though I’ve been feeling down about where I'm at in life over the last 2 months it’s only up from here.
"I think between age 21-29 is a phrase of hustle, suffering and smiling, toiling depression, over thinking, wondering whether you'll achieve your goals, and make it in life, 90's babies hope y'all alright. It will be okay someday don't lose hope."