It's November 2016, I graduated almost a year and a half ago. If you think time flies when you're in school, try not to blink once you're out.

I've never been one to look too far into the future, choosing to focus on whats in front of me or the near future like tomorrow or next week rather than a year or five ahead. So when I was in high school I worried about high school, vaguely paying mind to the thought of what comes next aka college.  Then when I was in college, it was more about passing my classes and paying my tuition than "what's my end goal?," or "what happens once I graduate?"

​Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved to read.  In middle school when I discovered the YA section, the novels that drew me in, the ones that I went back to every time I made a trip to the library, were the romances.  The teen "chick lit" as it's generally known, aka my go-to genre.  The one where the girl meets the guy and maybe they don't get along right away, or maybe he's not who she ever thought she'd see herself with.  By the end, both the girl and her love interest realize the mutual feelings and finally have that kiss we've all spent waiting, the hundred or so pages of waiting, for.  I'm not sure what it is about this genre but it's always been the one I've gravitated towards the most.  I don't stop there: books, movies, music (heck my favorite artist is Taylor Swift, I think that says a lot),was, and is, the genre that appeals to me the most. 

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 "Why don't you go back to school?" "Good luck with that, that's not going to be easy." "Why don't you go into publishing?" "Are you still going to do the writing thing?"

Every single day I'm surrounded by people who settled.  People who graduated from college and had dreams or plans for themselves, but they got comfortable. Things got hard or they fell into the routine of decent money and they simply never moved on. 

"No." At one point or another we all get that instinctual feeling.  The one where you can physically feel your stomach plummet to the concrete ground at your feet.  The one where it actually feels like time has stopped.  It's that moment where it seems control is no longer in your hands.  The next step you take could end in disaster, and you're terrified. So, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is "no." Without hesitation, you automatically decline the invitation, shut yourself down and try to change the subject.  As soon as you feel the anxiety creep in, you do everything in your power to rid yourself of it.  To avoid facing something that makes your hands shake and your stomach knot so intensely you feel physically sick, you say no.  You stop yourself from living because you're afraid.  You're afraid what could happen.  You're afraid of what's behind closed doors and the inevitable, like failure, rejection, change, the unknown.  

Every time the new year rolls around I notice two types of people: those screaming NEW YEAR NEW ME, and those proclaiming that you don't need the clock to strike midnight on a new year to make a change.  While I agree that starting over, changing directions and taking on a new perspective doesn't need permission from a new year, I enjoy the endless possibilities of starting fresh in a new year.  

2015 was one the most challenging, adventurous, life changing years I have ever experienced.  It brought some great people into my life and it taught me that not everyone is meant to stay.  I learned people aren’t always going to be there for you.  You can’t depend on someone to lift you up every time you fall; you have to learn to stand on your own.