Notes from the Edge of a New Year: Real Adulthood??

Dear Reader, 

I am sitting in a coffee shop for what very well may be the last time in a long while–but more on that later. A man who looked up from his laptop and smiled at me as I walked in just stopped by my table on his way out and remarked, “It seems like everyone else is having fun! Why are we working?”, to which I laughingly responded, “I’m having fun working!” This exchange, though brief, has now served to spur a mental avalanche of reflection that I am in turn spilling out here. 

If you know me well, you know that “fun” and “work” have historically lived in entirely separate compartments of my life—stored in different boxes on opposite shelves. That’s not to say I can’t enjoy working, but work has never been something I would actively choose for enjoyment. Perhaps that sounds obvious or even silly, but as the daughter of a workaholic dad, I have seen how for some, work can, at times, monopolize one's life so entirely that it somehow spills out of its box and fills the need for recreation, or at least fills the time that would otherwise be allotted for it.  

And yet, here I am, in a buzzing coffee shop, thoroughly enjoying my work. It’s December 31, 2024, and I’m drafting my New Year’s resolutions and, more importantly, sketching out a life plan for the indefinite future.

As I step into 2025, I am feeling a strong pull toward adulthood and find myself in the throes of the mental transition between seeing adulthood as a veritable dungeon of responsibility and a free, open horizon. Maybe it's simply the maturity that comes with time or maybe it can be chalked up to my brain entering its final stages of development—purportedly culminating when I turn 25 in just over a year. I’ve always been skeptical of that claim, but as the pieces of my life start to fall into place, I can’t help but wonder if there’s some truth to it. 

Now, you might not be convinced that I’ve suddenly crossed the threshold into adulthood. If you know me, you know that I’ve often sprinted toward growth with great enthusiasm, only to suddenly lose stamina and find myself doubled over with an existential asthma attack. I make progress, but I also tend to overestimate how far I can go without pause. I’m a person of extremes—either doing everything perfectly all at once or doing nothing at all. And so when I get one of my metaphorical asthma attacks, it can be along and paunfil process to recover, straighten up, and try again.

Perhaps I say this with cliché, end-of-year naiveté, but this year feels different. I’m confident 2025 will bring growth and change—though perhaps not in the exact ways I’m envisioning as I sit here planning. It might bring less than I hope, more than I expect, or something entirely unexpected. As I look over my resolutions, I see traces of my old all-or-nothing tendencies, but I also notice a new gentleness and patience with myself—a willingness to embrace slower, more intentional progress.

I had planned to share my resolutions in this post, but I think they deserve their own space. For now, I’ll leave you with this: I truly feel as though I’m entering a new chapter. I’ve found inspiration in others who are navigating this same boat—the perplexing, yet hopeful transition into “real adulthood.” If you’ve found yourself here too, perhaps these ramblings can offer some sense of solidarity or value as you make sense of your own journey.

Much hope for the coming year, 

Anna Maria

P.S. I didn’t forget about leaving you hanging about the coffee shop. Check back in tomorrow for my next post where I’ll get in to that :)