Hello, Late Twenties

twentyfive

It’s been a while. I feel like this blog has transformed from what I wanted it to be (all things fashion) to some kind of emotional release (talking about my life, constantly). I guess I’m okay with it. I don’t really know. In less than three weeks I will be 25 years old, laying on an island, in a cabana with a fruity cocktail and still singing Beyonce from the On The Run Tour. I have a fab birthday (almost two weeks) planned and I can’t wait.

Turning 25 is something I never wanted to do. I always thought I’d be 18 forever. Not that I would want to be 18 forever now, but little Emily only ever wanted to be 18. The turn of independence, moving out, going to college, making my own decisions, it sounded like so much fun. What doesn’t sound fun, bills, rent, car payments, saving for an emergency fund (basically AKA money you can see, you can’t spend, but must save), car repairs for no reason, crazy neighbors, however those things come along with growing up. Hence the 18 years old forever bit I had going on for a long time.

Slowly at some point in my early twenties I realized that forever wanting to be 18 was lame and I was annoying and SO naïve at 18, I can’t even handle it. I have learned more in my early twenties than I ever could have imagined and I can’t wait to see what I learn in my wait for it… late twenties (still getting use to saying that).

I dream bigger than most people I know, and I pride myself on it. I think it’s one of the reasons why Mr. Murphy loves me like he does. But with every dream I also try as hard as I can to make them realities. I wanted to live in LA, so I moved here. I wanted to go to fashion school, so I kicked ass and graduated. I wanted a job before I graduated college, so I got one. I’m a get shit done kind of girl if you haven’t noticed. Things will change in these next five years and help shape me just like the last five years have. Next on the list includes Mr. Murphy and I living in the same city, Europe, a big diamond ring with a party to follow, career changes/advances/leaps/bounds, finding a place to call our home and maybe even a little munchkin. Who knows! I’m up for anything because well, I’m not getting any younger.

I’m not going to be sad about turning 25, oh boo hoo. I’m turning 25, WAHOO! Time to continue kicking ass and taking names.

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