Yesterday I turned 26.  I’m not one that likes putting too much emphasis on age, but for some reason this birthday means a ton to me this year. 

30 doesn’t seem that far away, and yet 20 seems like decades ago. When I turned 20 I was a sophomore in college. I was a baby. And I’ve managed to squeeze in a lot in five years: lots of traveling, a graduation, a couple odd jobs, many apartments, a few relationships, some marathons (!), and a career. I’ve also grown a shit ton emotionally — learning a lot about myself, what I love, what I’m good at, and what kind of energy I want to put into the world.

So now what happens for the second half of my twenties? Part of me always thought I was getting that wanderlust “out of the way” (travel across the country in a van that runs on vegetable oil? check.) because by 26 you’re supposed to have figured things out. Wandering meant uncertainty, and settling meant stability.

I’ve reached a crossroads where I’m really digging deep to reveal what I want to do and where I want to go in life. It’s an insanely hard question, and I feel lucky that I have a pretty great grasp on that answer. And so this next year, the big 2-6, is all about making that leap, entering the next chapter, and following my heart and gut.

I woke up on on my birthday at 5:30 so I could run over to the East River path in Manhattan for the sunrise over Brooklyn — what’s been my home for over two years. It was surprisingly warm as I sat myself on a bench and watched the sun bloom behind the buildings in Williamsburg. It sounds so incredibly cheesy (…cause it is) but I wanted to begin my birthday by myself in this way, while reminding myself of the strength I’ll always carry with me. 

26 will be full of change (and hopefully no more vague blog posts). It will be scary, thrilling, challenging, and ultimately one of the best years yet.