Five years ago I was 25. The math is pretty simple.
It seems as though it shouldn't feel like such a long time, but when I look at what's happened it seems a lifetime ago. Five years ago I quit my job and went to New Zealand on my own. I had an associate's degree, and had worked nearly ten years as a nanny. I was scared and excited, and taught myself to be social when my introvert fears made me want to stay in bed and read. It was an adventure that I loved, but also hated because I so deeply missed my home.
Upon returning to the good ol' USA, I enrolled at PSU and studied business and accounting. Accounting! Business?! It was a game changer. I started my first bookkeeping jobs, lived in an apartment by myself, and started running. I lost the ten pounds that I'd gained in New Zealand (from lonely stress eating).
I graduated and had a real job.
Now, at the age of 30, I have a different, equally "real" job. I'm six months married. I'm a student again. Somehow, with all of this in front of me, I feel completely unqualified. I realize that what I should tell myself is,
Hey you! Look at what's happened since 25! You can do this. Group projects? Bah! Cakewalk. Breaking into that dream job? It's gonna happen.
Instead, the mantra is, I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. Frack.
