After convincing myself that I was a (mostly) stable and predominantly independent/~thriving~ young women, I made the executive decision to move out of my parents’ house in the suburbs to live with a girl I met on Neopets more than a decade ago in the heart of downtown Toronto.

Considering the fact that I struggled through 4 years of gruelling post-secondary education, the temporary high of moving out to pursue an exciting job that gave me free reign (and free time) was both liberating and terrifying. Exercising my technical design skills (and maxing out my brain capacity for theories that only added to my repertoire of pretentious design terminology) meant that the entirety of my university career could be no less than incredibly mundane, calculated, and predictable – and therefore, landing a job that allowed me to be creative and ridiculous on my own time was the silver lining to otherwise blasé routines. (For a bit of background information, I started full-time as the editorial manager at MTV FORA in March, and graduated with a Bachelor of Design degree in June).
 

The freedom that came with these post-grad endeavours was a bit overwhelming – as I was thrown curveballs that forced me to learn how to do the basic things I never had to do as a coddled and sheltered only child of two over-accomodating parents. From my perspective, being employed at a steady 9-5 in addition to running my own projects was synonymous with security; making moving out a “logical next step.” However, months later, I’ve come to terms with the fact that this “logical next step” might not have been the most logical for me at the time – though in terms of society’s ideal of what it means to be a “self-sufficient” twenty-something, I feel like I’m on par (for the most part). **After all, I now know how to use various appliances without inflicting danger upon myself and my surrounding peers.**

The pressure to grow up is incredibly tolling, and despite never being older than I am right now (hah), I’ve never felt younger and more uncertain about what I’m doing with my life. Mid-October, I went through this really weird period where I struggled to allow myself to fully make the adjustment to life away from home/life after school. I spent a lot of time dwelling on old routines (and even applied for part-time retail jobs as an attempt to restore ~the balance~ I felt I was missing) – but ultimately, I couldn’t shake the feeling of regret; having pushed myself out of my comfort zone just because I was bored and restless.

Negatives aside, moving out has given me a lot more liberties re: time, and the absence of my daily commute has given me an hour of extra sleep and an earlier dinner time. The change of scenery has allowed me to experience life as a ~single lady~ in a city filled with QT boys ^_~, which is something kind of bizarre to me considering the fact that I went through the majority of my teenage years feeling socially ostracized and conversationally inept. So even though the transition has resulted in lots of bills and a depleting chequebook to match, it has also granted me the opportunity to participate in normal twenty-something activities (such as staying out past 11pm and having bottles of wine occupy a shelf in my fridge). It’s been interesting, and even though I’m still too awkward to strike up conversations with strangers and rarely drink, these are two steps in the direction towards adulthood (as per typified societal standards etc), and symbolically, are monumental enough to call ~valid~ and ~notable~ life progressions.

To me, 2014 is a year of new beginnings…because 2013 was, in it’s entirety, a year for adjustments. Though I don’t doubt that the fears/concerns/apprehensions/problems that dominated the latter half of my 2013 won’t carry out into 2014, I am confident that the time spent alone with my thoughts is helping me develop into the stable and predominantly independent/~thriving~ young women I wish to be.

In 2014, Bianca and I are going to try this thing where we write about topics that don’t just pertain to the weather and the cool shoelaces on our cool shoes. We’re both in the thick of self discovery – both emotionally and professionally – and we’d really like to share those feels with you…if you’ll listen.

Though the thought of divulging anything remotely personal on a public platform is terrifying, years of writing emotional entries in our Livejournal accounts has given us a pretty good understanding of what sounds self-depricating and what sounds self-reflexive; and thus, we feel like we’re well-versed enough to execute this “series” in a potentially engaging way.

If you have anecdotes about your year to share, or advice for adjusting to life away from the comfort of your suburban home (and queen-sized bed), feel free to leave a comment or come over to my apartment to sing kumbaya and roast marshmallows over one of Sylvia’s Diptyque candles.