Love Lounge: Did you have a quarter-life crisis?

Did you have a quarter-life crisis, friends? I was reminded of my own little mid-’20s, post-college, what-the-heck-am-I-doing? meltdown when I discovered Lizzy Stewart’s illustrations. Her sentiments are spot-on — all that wondering where your life is going, wondering why things aren’t magically falling into place after graduation and seeing your late ’20s looming on the horizon.

It happened to me a few years after I graduated from college. It was one of those moments that sticks in your head like a movie you know you’ll never forget. I was shopping, and as I was checking out, the cashier said, “Thank you, ma”am.“

Ma’am.

What happened after that is sort of a blur. I probably just mumbled a thank you in return and got out of there as fast as I could. When did I become a ma’am? How did I go from a youthful young lady to a ma’am, I thought? — a term reserved for, well, lack of a better word, not me. Ma’ams were the sort of women you’d see playing afternoon Bingo and telling “In my day” stories. The fact was that I didn’t feel like an adult. At all. So when had I become one? Somewhere along the way, I got to thinking that once I got that coveted college degree in my hands, everything would fall into place as if the stars were aligned just for me. I’d have everything figured out.

The real truth? I was actually left more confused. Who was I? What did I want in life? Where was I going? For the first time since kindergarten, my “life canvas” was blank. It was time for me to forge my own path, for me to make my own to-do list and for me to paint that canvas.

Did you feel like this when you were 25, friends? Do you know anyone who went through this? What has helped you deal with those growing pains the most? If you’re not 25 yet, do you think you’ll grapple with these issues when you hit the milestone birthday? xoxo

Love Lounge: Let’s talk high school

The shadow of your high school self stays with you, doesn’t it? Awkward first kisses. SAT nightmares. Embarrassingly puffy prom dresses. It’s all there, in the back of our minds, like a hauntingly beautiful oxymoron. We somehow think we’ve moved beyond high school, that we’re adults in this big bad world. Even I thought that, but then I stepped back inside my high school a couple years ago. For the first time since I threw my cap in the air at graduation.

High school is the ultimate encapsulated time capsule. We check our adulthood at the front door when we enter those hallowed halls for the first time since graduation. We are that 18-year-old once again, even if we’re really 26, 56 or even 86. The smells – the gym, the freshly mopped linoleum floors, the cafeteria. The sights – my old classrooms, my old locker. The sounds – the frenzied hustle of the teenage crowd, the basketballs bouncing in the gym, the whispers of gossip. It all takes you back because whether we like it or not, we were all someone in high school.
So who was I? Well, I had to dust off my old yearbooks for inspiration. I wasn’t on Student Council like the popular girls. I wasn’t the introspective poet like the theater dudes and dudettes. And I certainly wasn’t the star athlete like the football quarterback. No, I was the wallflower. The quiet one. That girl daydreaming in the corner, her head and nose always in a book or a pen in her hand. I suppose I hadn’t grown into my larger-than-life personality just yet.

So when we come back, it’s almost as if we’d never left. I got those same insecurities and fears the second I set foot in my old high school for the first time a few years ago. Apparently, parts of that high-school dreamer were still walking right beside me, and I suppose part of me couldn’t deny how much being in that building affected me — the building where I spent four of my most formative years.
Are our adult selves mere outgrowths of our 18-year-old innocence? Are we forever our high-school selves? Or do we mature with age and time? Let’s chat, friends! xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It]

On flu bugs and spring break

Well, friends, no sooner did I ring in spring break on Friday afternoon than I began to feel dull ache in the back of my throat. Flashforward to last night, and there was no denying it: I had the flu. The chills, coughing, runny nose kind. So needless to say, I’ll be resting and recharging my batteries today, drinking lots of juice and enjoying the wonders of Vick’s (isn’t that stuff just amazing?). Hope you all have a good day, and I’ll see you tomorrow! xoxo

[Photo via Le Love]

Love Lounge: Let’s talk Leap Day!

Leaping lizards. Leaps and bounds. Leaps of faith. Leap frogs.

Life offers hurdles and hurdles of leaps. There’s the literal leap you take when you’re 6-years-old and realize jumping into the puddle of mud is fun. There’s the leap you take when you get your first job – you’re not too sure what to expect or if you’re up to the challenge, but you take the leap anyway. There’s the leap you take when you move across the country in search of your dream job, dream love or even your dream house. There’s the leap you take when, on a whim, you tell that guy how you feel, because you know if you don’t do it now, you’ll lose your cool.

And then there are leaps that somehow just find themselves in your lap. It isn’t important how it got there. It’s a free gift waiting to be opened by you. People the world over are celebrating an extra day today so special that it only graces us with its presence once every four years.
I’ve been thinking about leaps a lot lately. When does a leap become a foolish plunge? And can we ever really know the difference between the two, or are we destined to repeat our mistakes over and over until we get it right? Isn’t life really just one giant leap after another? A chance taken. A question asked. A moment lived. A tear shed. A laugh chuckled. A risk, well, risked?

It takes a certain type of person to take the plunge. Because let’s face it: Leaping off the edge is a scary proposition. Will there be a safety net down below to catch us? It’d be so easy to back away from the fire down below, but the risk there? You’ll never feel the warm flame. And worse yet, you’ll be forever wondering, “What if?” What if I’d taken the chance and put myself out there? What if I’d actually, shock, lived a little? What will you be doing, friends?

**Special Offer: Stephanie of Luxe Boulevard is offering readers a special 29% off their order in honor of Leap Year! Just enter LEAPYEAR2012 at checkout.**

[Photos via We Heart It]

My 100-Word Love Story: On discovering your own happiness

My love story starts with my first school. It was the perfect college — the best one around. I was ecstatic that they wanted me and they were giving me a huge scholarship. I should have been having the time of my life my freshman year, but I was miserable and scared to admit I had “failed.” Eventually, I realized I have to do what’s right for me to take a chance at being happy. So I left home and started school in the big city! I have fallen in love with my beautiful school. The lesson: Risks can pay off.

–By Hayley from Classy In KC