Next week, I’ll be turning twenty-seven, which means I can officially kiss my mid-twenties goodbye. Yep, you heard it here first, I’m getting old. In light of my unwarranted promotion to the late-twenties club, I have been reminiscing on twenty-six.

Twenty-six wasn’t a particularly good year, but it wasn’t terrible, either. It’s kinda like turning nineteen— the awkward years between milestone birthdays.

You would think by twenty-six you would have it all figured out. I certainly thought I would. Had you asked me at eighteen, I would have been certain that I would be married with two babies by now. We kinda did everything backwards though, we moved in together after a year and half of dating— jumping from city to city— only to end up back in our hometown, living separately, saving money. Instead of having my own home, I am living rent-free at my parents’ house, trying to get a handle on my credit card debt that I accumulated in my early-twenties. At first, I was embarrassed, but now I just kinda own it— I’m paying for my past (literally) and saving for my future. It’s funny how life works that way.

I like to think that your twenties are for figuring things out— your career, your relationships, yourself. It’s almost like a trial and error period. I have a solid career that I absolutely love, but I don’t have a huge savings account to show for it. I have cut out toxic relationships and focused on a handful of really great ones. I became more of a homebody at twenty-six, which has taken a toll on my social life, but has given me time to really focus on myself. Twenty-six has felt lonely at times, and soul-bursting happy at others. There have been high highs and low lows. That, my friends, is life.

By twenty-six, I had a pretty good grasp on who I am, an appreciation of where I’ve been and an understanding of where I want to be. But, I still don’t have it all figured out, and that’s okay.

Here’s to hoping twenty-seven brings more stability, financial responsibility, good health, unconditional love, lots of travels, belly laughs and a big move to a new city.

Photography by Arabela Espinoza