Dear Berries,
I turned 29 on Saturday. AHHHHH!!!! When I say I thought I’d be dead by now, I'm only exaggerating a tiny bit. Let me explain.
Every girl has a fantasy. For me, I never pictured my fantasy past age 22. My entire life, all I wanted to do was move out, escape my hometown, move far away (as far as possible), go to film school, live alone, travel, be a writer—whatever that means. That’s the full extent of what my little brain visualized. Everything I heard other people talking about—meeting your soulmate, getting married, buying a house, having kids, omg I could not care less. It didn’t exist in my fantasy. Plus, multiple close friends died before I turned 18, so it truly did not seem far-fetched to think that I’d end up like them.
Well, against all odds, I turned 29 last Saturday. I actually feel overwhelmed with gratitude, because I am so happy and more core to ME than ever—a dramatic transformation from my teens + early twenties, where I was mostly extremely unhappy.
Berries, I know what it’s like to HATE your situation. I remember it so vividly, because personally I have HATED almost every job I’ve had. I keep capitalizing HATE because I’m not talking about dislike.
I’m talking about imagining throwing yourself in front of a car so you don’t have to go into the office anymore. I’m talking about banging your head against the wall, hitting snooze 50 times, yelling into your pillow, slathering on a 5-inch fake personality mask for 12 hours, suffocating in agony for every single day to be over. Waiting. Waiting till you're asleep and no longer conscious, or just waiting all week for the weekend, and then forcing yourself to repeat the horrors on Monday.
But I chose to go through it all because I wanted to be a writer—that was the plan. THE DREAM. Be a writer. A novelist, a film/tv writer, a magazine columnist, something like that. And I followed the planned path to that dream for so long. I got into my dream college, studying my dream major (film), and I worked my top-choice jobs in the entertainment industry: studio jobs, the #1 talent agency, a writer's room.
I never thought I'd leave the entertainment industry when I was 27 and two years later... start my own clothing brand.
Now, am I still a writer? I'm writing sayings and slogans for crop tops. I'm writing website descriptions, product messaging, ad copy, Instagram captions, emails, SMS, and blogs like this. 18-year-old me would NEVER have anticipated that. She'd probably tell me I just didn't have what it takes to stick to the plan, and execute my actual "dream" (she was not a very nice person).
But guess what? SHE DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING. Things are changing all the time. At any moment, everything can change for the positive. I feel like I discard my entire self and morph into a totally new version of myself every 6 months (minimum). I literally thought I'd be dead by now. What do I know about a plan?
For the first time in my career (luckily not my life... my post-grad age 22 life), I am excited about waking up every day—during the week, not just the weekend. This finally feels RIGHT. It feels like for almost all of my other jobs, I was forcing 98% of my brain and spirit to shut the f*ck up. It felt like masses of my brain cells were killing themselves every day. I know that sounds extreme, but that is just how it feels. Anyone who's worked a corporate job might relate.
Thanks for reading! If you have any thoughts, my inbox is always open, just DM @shopwantme
x Jess
