The thought of spending my 24th birthday alone terrified me. Which is exactly why I had to do it.
Jenny Chang / Via BuzzFeed
In my final year of college, my parents left the United States. They moved back to the Philippines where I was born. I chose to stay in New York for school, for work, for friends — a life I was beginning to build.
But after graduation, my closest circle had to break-up. Some of us moved to San Francisco, Boston, and more than nine stops into Brooklyn. And I've had few long-term boyfriends. Well, not even 'long-term.' Let's say 'mid-term.' So, as I approached 24, I realized I'd been living much of my adult life alone.
Despite the immigrant specificities, my story is not a novel one. Many of my friends, in their sophomore year of adulthood, feel lonely and adrift, and so they take every chance they get to ground and anchor themselves in other human beings. I, Mr. Hey What Are You Doing Tonight ?, was no different.
However, I've been feeling not like myself lately. I used to gain all my energy from connecting with people, both familiar and new. Now it would only exhaust me. One of my friends recommended I go see a therapist; this sounded exhausting and expensive.
(Me, at 23, in a particularly low moment.)
I recently moved to Brooklyn with two of my best friends and co-habitation has changed our dynamic. When you live with someone, you never actively plan on being together, so you take togetherness for granted. Plus, they both have adoring boyfriends. I, insecure and jealous by nature, often feel left out.
My career has been going smoothly. And yet, whenever I'm not being praised, by some oppositional logic, my brain processes that blank space as silent critique. "No one's complimenting you," it tells me, "therefore you are literally the worst." This is what happens when you work on the internet and you place your self-worth in the palms of those who have much else in their hands.
