24

My 20s have been far less glamorous than Hollywood told me.

I just turned 24 and, to be honest, the past 4 years have included considerably more coffee shops, Thai takeout, and existential crises than wild nights out on the town. I haven’t started a world-changing social network, enlisted in the Peace Corps, created a thriving business to support young professional women, or moved to New York City with $20 dollars to my name to pursue my dream. When I remember Adele is only a year older than me and Malala was 16 when she challenged the TALIBAN, my accomplishments feel even smaller.

That’s why I’m here. It seems that everyone my age feels obligated to play the part – traipse along with pasted smiles, like life is peachy and going according to plan. But I’ve spoken with enough 20-somethings (heck, even 40 or 50-somethings) to have an inkling that most of us are just muddling through, trying to learn the moves as best we can without looking like a total jackass in the process.

My hope with this blog is to document a small blip of authentic 20-something life. I don’t pretend to represent the entire Millennial generation, I’ll just write about what I love. Food, photography, social justice, career, travel, feminism, politics, music, art, the written word, and love will most likely dominate this space – like I said, I don’t have it all figured out yet.

I’m well aware that I’m supposed to find a blogging niche, but honestly, I’ve never been one to squeeze myself into a box. I want to write about my passions – things that excite me, infuriate me, or give me hope! I’m not writing this for anyone in particular. I’m writing this for me, and for the hope that someone else will hear my satellite call and feel slightly more assured on their fumbling, glamour-less journey. All I can promise is that I’ll never stop challenging the status quo – and that I will NEVER post a listicle. (Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good Buzzfeed aggregate of the top 10 Internet cats of 2015 as much as the next girl, but I’m a writer. And listicles are not writing. #sorrynotsorry)

So here’s to figuring it out together.