When I first started GenPink my first goal for myself was to find some fellow twenty something, non-mommy, female bloggers. The first person I found that fit this description was Zandria. I found her blog via BlogHer. I was immediately intrigued by her 101 Things in 1001 Days List (I still plan on doing this). Over the past year I have kept up with her blog and have since found a huge network of other twentysomethings as well. I knew that since Zandria was my first internet blogging buddy that I definitely wanted her to guest write this series commemorating my first year.

This guest post was written by Zandria, a contributing editor of BlogHer and expert twentysomething blogger.

When I started writing my blog over five years ago – at the age of 22 – I was in the midst of a full-blown quarterlife crisis. I was taking college classes but I didn’t know what in the world I wanted to do; I was working in a call center (a job that I hated, but I made decent money); I was just beginning to feel normal again after having major surgery on my back the previous year to correct scoliosis (a procedure that left me with permanent steel rods attached to my spine); and to top it off – due to all the stress, the worry, to my feeling of powerlessness – I’d lost thirty pounds due to restricting my food intake.

That’s the state I was in when I started blogging. I was officially a mess.

The reason I started writing online was because I’d decided to take a semester off from college. I was leaving my home in Virginia to spend a few months with my aunt and uncle in southern California, and I wanted a way for family and friends to easily keep up with what I was doing while I was gone.

I was granted a leave of absence from my job, I drove cross-country by myself, and I stayed in California long enough to get my head together – at least “together” enough to feel ready to go back to Virginia and resume college classes the next semester. I completed my last two years of school, and I spent one of those four semesters in a study-abroad program in Amsterdam.

My quarterlife crisis? It was all about searching. I spent many hours on the internet, looking at career options, reading about people who had made big, life-changing decisions. I wanted to know how and why they ended up where they did.

I didn’t know WHERE I wanted to be, or WHO I wanted to be. I thought if I discovered the answer to at least one of those questions (but preferably both), I’d be well on my way to being happy. That’s what I would say to myself, and to other people, all the time: “I just want to be happy. I’ll move wherever I need to move, I’ll do whatever I need to do, as long as I’m happy.”

Throughout my mid-twenties, I remained in crisis mode – just not to same extent. I was able to regain some of the weight I’d lost. I returned to California after I graduated from college and ended up staying for a year. Then I moved to the metropolitan DC area in the fall of 2006, which is where I still am today.

Last summer, not long after my 27th birthday, I said that I had survived my quarterlife crisis. What had changed? How did I reach that conclusion? It’s because – although I still don’t know what I want to do with my life – I’ve reached a level of acceptance. My job isn’t perfect, but I work for a nonprofit that has a great mission, and with co-workers who believe in making a difference. I don’t live in a fancy house, but I do live in a safe, fun area, with a roommate that I like. I’m no longer stick-thin (thank God), but now I work out on a regular basis and I’m more comfortable with my body than I’ve ever been in my life.

Having accepted my life doesn’t mean I’m 100% content with where I am, but that’s okay. I’m growing, I’m adapting, I’m changing, and I’m keeping my eyes (and options) open. In the meantime, I’m not settling. I’m living.

pol·i·tics
–noun
1. the science or art of political government.
2. The activities or affairs engaged in by a government, politician, or political party.

For most of the letters of this ABC series I picked words that describe what my twenties have been like for me. For the letter P however, I opted for a word that I know very little about. Despite the fact that I was in a 3 year relationship with a guy who works in politics and has aspirations of one day being The President I have yet to inform myself on politics (I know shame on me).

I do have several friends though that have a very strong interest in the political world. I have noticed that their interests in politics has developed increasily as the years have progressed. A few of my friends are starting to find that now that they are separate from their parent’s they don’t necessarily support the same party as what they grew up with. I thought it would be a great idea to find someone who could give us a little insight into what it’s like to find your voice in the political arena in your twenties.

After some research I found Citizen Jane Politics a blog that states it is "The Modern Girls’ Guide to Picking the Leaders of the Free World." After a little email exchange Patricia Murphy, the blog editor agreed to guest write P is for Politics.

I feel the need to disclaim here: the opinion of this guest post is not necessarily the views of GenPink. *Now we may go back to our regularly scheduled programming*

Let’s say somebody wrote a movie about an election between a candidate who could be the first woman president and a candidate who could be the first African American president. In the movie, the two keep trading victories- back and forth, back and forth. Nobody knows who the winner will be, but they’ll eventually run against an almost over-the-hill, almost broke, completely feisty maverick senator with a severe problem with his Republican base.

If you gave all three of those candidates an even shot at winning, nobody would believe that movie, but you would have this year’s presidential contest, a race that is literally too good to be true.

That is the drama that brought me to politics for my first job out of college and is what keeps me coming back time after time. There is nowhere else that seems as relevant, as important or as completely entertaining that the political world. But the longer I’ve spent there, the more I’ve noticed a problem with it. There are too many guys. They’re everywhere.

Men make up 84 percent of the House of Representatives, and 86 percent of the Senate. They dominate the tops of campaigns and are most of the consultants and pollsters. Men write 72 percent of the political blogs and are anywhere from 50 to 90 percent of the guests on Sunday political talk shows.

Does it matter? I think so. In a year when the women’s vote has determined nearly every Democratic primary, when women outnumber men at the polls and when a woman has a shot at the presidency for the first time in history and many women aren’t supporting her, how could a panel of mostly men have all the answers?

To put it in terms that an all-male panel might understand, why put the Yankees pitching staff on a show about summer sports? Is it possible that insights into Roger Federers’ grass game might slip through the cracks during discussions of knuckle balls and sliders?

Having worked on Capitol Hill for nine years, I can tell you men, bless their hearts, dominate the political conversation for a simple reason- they speak up a lot more. They give their opinions. Instead of asking, "Why me?" before writing an op-ed or running for office, they say, "Why not me?"

Looking ahead to 2008, I don’t care who you vote for, but I do hope you’ll vote and that you’ll make an informed decision. I also hope you’ll speak up the next time a political conversation happens around you, or leave a comment on an article you disagree with. I hope that next president is competent, qualified and up for the challenge and that tops that make you look pregnant prove to be a tragic but short-lived phenomenon.

Ladies, the direction of this country is up to somebody–why not us?

A few weeks ago a friend of mine wrote a post on her blog asking if trading recipes made us officially old. I had that exact same thought the other day when some girl friends and I were sharing home organization advice. You know you’re getting old when your topics of conversation involve cooking and/or cleaning. Sorry to break the news.

As dorky as it is I’ve been in-love with The Container Store since I was in sixth grade. As much as I love to buy organizational contraptions I do have a bit of a problem keeping my things organized. This is why I love love love Unclutterer and Real Simple Home & Organizing. I need constant reminders, and it never fails I find something new that I’d never thought of. If you’ve never seen either of these sites you’re either a) living in a shoe box or b) living under a rock. I’m sorry but there really are no other explanations for missing out on such greatness. As if you couldn’t tell by the 3 loves I was elated when Erin, the Erin from Unclutter agreed to write O is for Organization. Now if only Erin would just live in my guest room and keep my house uncluttered.

Erin Doland is Editor-in-Chief of the home and office organization website Unclutterer. You also can find her doling out organization advice twice a week on RealSimple.com.

My sister-in-law is 22 and graduates this May from college. We often talk about her plans after graduation and her anxieties associated with this life-changing event. Her parents, siblings, and friends appear to have a limitless supply of useful career and social advice. I don’t know a great deal about her profession or the city where she is moving, so I’m focusing my advice to her on the topic of organization. Specifically, I’m focusing the majority of that advice on her kitchen, because that is where my heart is.

Here are some of the tips I’ve recently shared with her:

• When putting your kitchen together, arrange items in cabinets based on where you use them. Pots, pans, baking sheets, and oven mitts should be next to your stove. Glasses should either be next to your sink (if you’re a tap water drinker) or the refrigerator (if you prefer chilled beverages). Silverware and plates should be relatively close together since you most often use them together. Heavy items should be stored in lower cabinets, and mugs near your coffee pot.
• Don’t be afraid to ask for very specific, practical things for graduation gifts. Receiving a basket of plastic wrap, aluminum foil, zip-top baggies in varying sizes, wax paper, garbage bags, paper towels, and hand towels isn’t the world’s sexiest gift, but you’ll definitely appreciate it when you don’t have to buy these items before getting your first paycheck.
• Consider re-purposing some of your college items for your kitchen needs. An old index card file is great for holding seasoning packets and soup mixes. An over-the-door pocket shoe organizer can hold pouches, cans, and mixes on the back of a pantry door. Milk crates you used as a bookshelf in your dorm room can become bins for recycling. Your shower caddy makes a nice organizer for cleaning supplies under your kitchen sink.
• Have a list of essential kitchen tools and only focus on acquiring those items. You’re likely moving into a small space, and having something you won’t regularly use will only cause clutter. I spent most of my first years after college using nothing but one cast iron skillet for my pan set. It was cheap (under $20), and I could cook almost everything on it.
• Don’t put your trash can under your sink. Get a relatively nice trash can with a lid that opens with a foot press. If the trash can is under your sink then you have to open the door and pull out the trash can every single time you want to throw something away. You won’t forget to take out the garbage if you can see that it needs to be emptied, and the likelihood that you’ll get critters is reduced since you’ll be taking out your garbage more often. Plus, you can move the trash can around the kitchen as you’re working.

na·ked
–noun
1. being without clothing or covering; nude.
2. defenseless; unprotected; exposed.

Despite the fact that GenPink is well pink and I mention bras in my intro the majority of the posts on this blog are fairly unisex. With that being said, this is my disclaimer that this is a female specific post. I’m sorry guys I know with the word naked in the title how could this post not be for you. Perhaps I’ll make it up to you in the future.

This guest post was written by Karly Randolph Pitman, a writer, speaker, blogger, and mother of four, offers encouragement for women at First Ourselves.

My 20s were spent in a perpetual quest for skinniness, a relentless pursuit of wearing a size 2. I hated my body. I loathed it. I so desperately wanted it to be…perfect.

Is it any coincidence that my 20s were also full of depression, low self-esteem, and feelings of worthlessness?

At the time, I thought it didn’t matter that I hated my body. After all, I was in good company: most other women I know did, too. I thought the only person I was hurting was myself.

I was so wrong.

Hating my body didn’t just affect me; it affected every woman. Do you despise our culture of female body hatred, of the incessant pull towards physical perfection? I helped create that. Maybe you have, too.

Every little girl on a diet? She was simply following in my footsteps.

I look at my daughters, one a beautiful little girl; the other, a beautiful young woman on the cusp of adolescence. They are fortunate, and blessed to live in modern times. Their foremothers have paved the way for them, clearing the obstacles that hindered earlier generations: They can vote, they have a voice; they can own property. They will witness the first woman in the Oval Office.

So what will prevent my girls from pursuing their dreams? What will keep them trapped? What will stunt their growth? Buying the lie that they are what they look like; that they have to be super skinny to be beautiful, that they must loathe and control and shape their female form into something unnaturally unattainable to be okay. The other freedoms won’t matter, if they aren’t free in their mind: free to love and accept themselves.

I have the power to change that. You do, too. That is why, as a woman, loving your body is some of the most important work that you can do.

It’s important because if it remains unaddressed, it will sabotage anything else you try to do. It’s scary to put yourself out on a limb, to offer your pearls to the world, and hope that it appreciates their value. It’s even scarier if your confidence is undermined, if you’re thinking of all the ways your body doesn’t measure up.

It’s important because you can’t separate your body from the other parts of yourself. You can’t love yourself and hate your body.

It’s important because you can’t be free and clear to love and accept others unconditionally, if you’re not loving and accepting, first, towards yourself.

It’s important because you can’t be the woman, daughter, friend, or woman you wish to be, if you’re consumed about thoughts about your body.

It’s important because hating your body keeps you stuck. It keeps you in bondage, just as surely as violence, sexism, and injustice does.

It’s important because the world needs our sacred femininity.

It’s important because we can’t fix the "big" problems - war, hatred, genocide, or violence - until we first heal these issues internally, in our battle with ourselves.

If you think the world would be a better place if more women ran it, think about how we could run it if we weren’t so preoccupied on things that ultimately don’t matter. Try it from this perspective: if you had to think of a way to suppress the women of the world, what better way to do so than by feeding an obsessive distraction with appearance, so that women can’t focus their energy on what truly needs their help and devotion.

Let’s create a world where little girls aren’t dieting in kindergarten. Let’s create a world where emaciated women are not the ideal. Let’s create a world where we celebrate our bodies by using them to make the world a better place.

Let’s create our alternate universe.

First, ourselves: then, the world.

mon·ey
–noun
1. any circulating medium of exchange, including coins, paper money, and demand deposits.
2. a particular form or denomination of currency.

Throughout my twenties I have had a love hate relationship with my money. I have spent the greater part of the last few years getting myself into and now almost out of debt. Money is a topic that is never far from the back of my mind. I have had several posts on this topic because the dreaded M word is a concern of many of my friends. We are fortunate today to have a guest writer who can give those of us who live in paycheck to paycheck land a bit of insight.

This guest post was written by Michael Rubin, author of Beyond Paycheck to Paycheck: A Conversation About Income, Wealth, and the Steps in Between. Michael gives financial planning advice on his website Total Candor.

Financially speaking, we’re a country of idiots. Despite spending billions educating our children, we fail to provide some of the most important and basic of life’s lessons. For me, money, nutrition, and relationships are the most critical but neglected topics. Unfortunately, I have no credibility to write about the last two—my love affair with homemade chocolate chip cookies notwithstanding. Plus, today is brought to you by the letter “M,” so MONEY it is:

# # #

Your problem isn’t Starbucks.

Many financial experts feel that the problems of the world (and especially of young people) would instantly disappear if we could only get rid of our coffee shops.

Look, if you’re going to Starbucks five times a day, spending $100+ a week there, you’ve got problems. But your money problem isn’t the first one to address. Of course, most people don’t use Starbucks that way, and so what the financial talking heads miss is that nobody—not even the most coffee-addicted person you know—is going to find ten grand a year by pinching pennies at Starbucks.

Instead, you’ve got to put major focus on major expenses, like your housing and car choices. The typical underpaid twenty-something simply can’t live on the same block as the manager two levels up from her or drive the car her boss drives. Not yet. When you commit to high housing or car expenses, you pay them for a long time. Therefore, that’s where you want to put most of your financial energy and discipline. Remember: just because someone will sell you something doesn’t mean you can afford it.

Still, day-to-day spending can make a difference, so it’s important to stay emotionally connected to your money. Most people have no idea how much cash they have in their wallets until they find themselves at a place that has the audacity not to accept credit cards. This disconnection matters because when you’re emotionally separated from your money, you spend more. Spending cash hurts—right away. Using credit cards is painless—until you get the bill.

Leave your credit cards at home for a few days, use cash, and see how your spending habits change. They will. When you see two options for something you need, one at $55 which is “good enough” and another at $89 that is “better,” spending cash means you’ll likely take the one for $55. Handing over three twenties to the cashier feels a lot better than saying goodbye to five of them.

By prioritizing what really matters to you, constant budgeting isn’t required. The beauty of following the saving strategies is that you save so much you don’t need to micromanage your finances. Budgeting can limit your desire for spontaneity, making it hard to keep at it. But you can get away without budgeting entirely if you simply commit to saving. After all, if you’re putting away 15 percent of your income, what’s the difference how you spend the other 85 percent?

Most of all, relax.

Don’t worry about retirement. Yes, I said that. You’ve got all the time in the world. It’s only if you haven’t done anything about your retirement and are now a fortysomething that you should begin to be worried.

The key for twentysomethings is to just start. By saving for retirement while in your twenties, you eliminate the key source of worry later on: the cost of procrastinating throughout your youth. Thanks to the miracle of compounding interest (your money earning money), the amount you have to save when you are young is quite minimal compared to what you’d have to save if you wait just a few years.

Don’t worry about it, just do it.

The key is not to begin cutting all of your discretionary spending. Instead, you need to find a way to spend on the items you value the most. If it’s coffee, pull up a chair and enjoy. But if it’s not, simply keep walking.

Personal finance isn’t that hard. Your day job is much more complicated. But you were taught how to do your day job. Managing money only takes a little effort, some patience, and an occasional bit of willpower. Today, you can choose to make a big difference in your financial future. Why wait?

As soon as the idea for the ABCs came to me I quickly got out my trusty notebook and began writing down different words that could work for different letters. Surprising L (well and x) was the hardest letter for me. I bantered back and forth with this one. The obvious love kept coming back to me. I really didn’t want to do ‘L is for Love’ for a few reasons. First of all, not all twentysomethings make their twenties about finding love. Many people spend their twenties focusing on career and feel that their love life will come as it does. And the real reason that I did not to do ‘L is for Love’ is that really it’s just so cliche (for me). I started GenPink to be out of the box that I was seeing female bloggers being put in. I refuse to do things that I see as being too cliche. So, since L had such a meaning for me I decided that I should not have a guest writer on this. L is for Life was too important to not take on what that means to me as a twentysomething female.

life [lahyf]
–noun
1. the animate existence or period of animate existence of an individual.
2. a particular aspect of existence.

I think that the early to mid-twenties is the first time that we really get to experience life for what it is. The earlier years are spent focusing on education. It wasn’t until a year or two after I graduated from college that I realized that I had so much control over what I made of my life. Growing up I had a fairytale view that I would go to college and get a job and everything would just unfold as it should. I was in for a rude awakening when I found out the reality of life outside my fairytale bubble.

I was shocked to find that just because you have a degree does not necessarily mean that you will get the job. And just because you have the degree and get the job doesn’t mean that’s really the job for you. The lesson that I continually learn is that life is what you make of it. I know that sounds so cheesy (and cliche) but it really is true. I think it’s scary and empowering all at the same time to know that I have the power to make my life what is today, and tomorrow. The life that I am making for myself now is one that makes a difference in the world.

One of the lesson that I’ve learned this year is that life is now. This seems pretty obvious on paper but many people do not realize what this really means. A few months back a friend of mine lost her brother to an accident. It is moments like this that remind us that we are not always promised future with those we care about. If we spend our whole lives waiting on the perfect moment we will miss out on today. Your life is today, make what you will of it.

I leave you with this quote because I think this sums up what life in your twenties is about.

"The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want." - Ben Stein

kitch·en
–noun
1. a room or place equipped for cooking.
2. a room equipped for preparing meals.

I was reluctant to use the word kitchen to be a defining point for twenty somethings because honestly I am not quite sure how I think of said word (or said room). After much debate I decided that whether I like it or not, the kitchen has some how become more apart of my life as I’ve gotten older. Something about getting my own place gave me a desire to learn to cook. Even if it was only for a little bit. When I first started blogging I found an internet buddy who had many things in common with me, including being a graphic designer. She and I have become internet/email/blogging friends and I am often quite amused at how similar two strangers can be. Michelle has a much similar few of the whole cooking game as I do, so I figured she’d be a good candidate to write about the kitchen. I was hoping maybe Michelle could shed some light on my love/hate relationship with my kitchen.

This guest post was written by Michelle of Michelle & the City, a 25 year old graphic designer living in Ohio.

There is a room in my home that I definitely have mixed feelings about. We were hot and heavy for a while, but then frozen meals came along and we just didn’t spend as much time together anymore. I’m sure he misses me, but sometimes I just can’t find the time in my busy life to spend an entire night with him. I’m pretty sure he wants to break-up with me.

Yes, I’m talking about my kitchen.

As a 25-year old single woman who lives alone, I don’t find the need to cook full meals anymore. To take the time to find recipes, go out and buy the 20 ingredients and spend the next 3 hours in the kitchen. I am content with peanut butter on toast or a bowl of cereal and cold milk most nights.

But you know what? This bothers the hell out of me.

I want to be the next Martha Stewart. Or at least a distant relative. I want to be the mother who makes the best lemon bars on the block, packs the best lunches and hosts Thanksgiving dinner. I want my pasta salad to be requested at potlucks and for my girlfriends to ask for my lemon meringue pie recipe because it’s the best they’ve ever tasted.

It’s not that I can’t cook, although I am more of an amateur. When I had a live-in boyfriend I loved cooking for him. Maybe not every day, but there was something satisfying about having someone to make a home-cooked meal for. But it was nothing fancy. (I do make a mean Tater Tot Casserole however, you should try it!)

But I want to be better.

I want to learn. In fact, the last time I had a get together with my high school girlfriends we decided to exchange recipes over email when we made something we really liked. We laughed about how this made us feel old, but we liked the fact that we can grow up and still have something to share with each other and have in common besides high school crushes.

So what do you guys think? Does this Susie homemaker wannabe feeling happen to every 20-something woman? Does it depend on your marital status? Share your feelings on the kitchen with me. I hope I’m not the only one pining away at all my un-used appliances!

I say that the Susie homemaker wannabe feelings are stronger for me when I have someone to cook for. I found myself cooking more often when I was in a relationship. When it’s just me my love of Macaroni gives me no reason to spend much time playing Martha. What about you guys?

joy [joi]
–noun
1. the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.
2. a state of happiness or felicity.

It is a common trait of Gen Yers to try to take on too many things. We often find ourselves bogged down and stressed out with too many responsibilities. For many of us we feel guilty taking time just for ourselves. This is the reason there are so many posts written by and for millennials about find balance in your life. I will say to me one of the most important aspects of having balance is making time for joy in my life. Everyday! Even when I have 25 hours worth of things to fit into one day I manage to find ways to squeeze in a little bit of joy here and there.

I create joy in my life by taking little moments, that could otherwise be neutral, to do something that makes me happy. For example, if I know I have a lot of laundry to do (which is not my favorite thing to do), I will turn on some really happy music. Music has a pretty big joy factor for me. I also use the time that I sit in traffic to catch up with my friends on the phone (on an ear-piece of course). Instead of getting home, after a long day of work, stressed out from sitting in horrendous traffic, I walk in the door smiling (usually laughing) from the tales of my favorite people.

I also create joy by making me time a priority. Remembering to set aside time to recharge and relax gives me the possibility to have a different outlook on life. I find joy in some the smallest day to day tasks. I know that my outlook is based on knowing that at the end of the day I have accomplished what I want and I have also remembered to take care of myself. When we get too stressed everything seems to become work. Taking even 10 minutes to destress can make such a difference in how you perceive the rest of your day.

Joy for me is about being thankful for the little things in life, having great people around, making a difference in other’s lives, watching myself grow & change, being silly, and so many other things. How do you create joy in your day to day life?

i·den·ti·ty
–noun
1. The collective aspect of the set of characteristics by which a thing is definitively recognizable or known.
2. The distinct personality of an individual regarded as a persisting entity; individuality.

The struggle of finding who you are is very common in your twenties. Trying to fit into the career world is a big part of figuring out who we are. For many twentysomethings their career becomes their identity. This is why choosing a career, or making a career change, can be so stressful. Your twenties are the time that you decide who you want to be and who you want to become.

Penelope Trunk frequently writes about finding yourself and how that can affect your success in career. I am honored to have Penelope share her wisdom with us GenPinkers.

This guest post was written by Penelope Trunk, a career columnist at the Boston Globe, who provides advice at the intersection of work and life on her blog Brazen Careerist.

I learn the most about identity when I’m lost and I have to make a tough career decisions. Here’s the first time it happened:

When I graduated from college, I knew I wanted to play professional beach volleyball, but I was actually in Chicago, being a bike messenger in the snow, and I had no idea how I was going to get enough money to get to Los Angeles.

So I answered an ad someone ran for posing nude. I thought I could do it and get enough cash to get to LA. I went to the guy’s apartment. Insane, right? You are thinking this was not a safe move. I know. But I was young and sheltered, and I had never been faced with the problem of not having money.

I knocked.

The guy opened his door, and while I was still standing in his hallway he said, "Nice legs. But I can look at you and see this isn’t going to work."

I said, "Huh?"

"Well. What can you do? You can’t just stand there. That won’t work."

"What should I do?"

"See. I told you this won’t work."

He told me to stand on my toes and toss my hair.

I couldn’t do it.

He told me to practice and then come back.

On my way home, I thought. "That guy sucks. And I should be in Playboy. In the centerfold. I could do a great job at the written interview."

But by the time I got home, I was thinking how stupid it would be to spend my time figuring out how to get into nude modeling. That is only a stop-gap measure. Not a long-term way to make a living.

And I asked myself why I was doing that? Why wasn’t I doing something I’d be more proud of? I realized that the ways I choose to make money reflect who I am and how I see myself, and I need to start seeing myself as smart and clever. I always knew I was smart, but I didn’t present myself that way in the world.

That’s the moment I decided to switch. It seems obvious in hindsight, right? Of course getting paid to be smart is better than getting paid to be naked because it’s getting paid to be who I really am inside.

But we each struggle with this constantly, throughout our careers. How to figure out who we are inside and what career will be right for how we see ourselves now. It’s a constantly shifting alliance — what is our identity and what is the career that will reflect that.

Don’t be so arrogant as to think you do not consider such mismatched career moves for yourself as my nude modeling was for me. It’s very hard to find what career honors our identity. Identity changes as life changes And it’s hard to know what’s true to us at any given point. It takes a lot of vigilance and honesty and a willingness to shift when we’re totally off base.

I am currently in the state of making a career decision that has definitely made me question how my career defines my identity. My biggest take away from Penelope’s words of wisdom are remembering to have a willingness to shift.

home (hohm)
–noun
1. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.
2. the place in which one’s domestic affections are centered.

An interesting thing I discovered about myself when I first moved out of my parents house, was that I have an intense desire to customize whatever space I would be calling home. Even when "home" for me was one half of a shoe-box-sized dorm room, I needed to hang pictures up and make that space my own. Blank walls never feel like home to me. As my "home" changed and developed along the years so did my love for decorating my space to fit me. If money were no object I would redecorate my house (aka apartment) with the change of the seasons. Since I have yet to win the lottery I get my decoration fix by following home design blogs and fantasizing those spaces could be mine. I am excited to have today’s post be written by a blogebrity Holly Becker of decor8, one of my favorite design blogs.

This guest post was written by Holly Becker, a freelance writer and interior design consultant. decor8, Holly’s home on the web, has over 17,000 daily readers!

I’ll never forget the first few months in my apartment. I signed a 12-month lease and was set to move into my first pad at twenty-two years old. A week before I moved in my entire world fell apart. My long-term boyfriend left me, I lost my job, my car died, and I was having family problems. This isn’t just a little story of just how badly a young life can suck, but how fresh paint and a positive perspective can help un-suck all the sucky-suck faster than you can wrap your head around what I’ve just said.

I’ll never forget the night I moved in, scared to death to sleep alone in a strange room. I sat wide-eyed and frightened on my mattress surrounded by boxes and shadows. I felt cold, numb, and very lonely, doubting myself and my abilities to make it work alone. "What the hell was I thinking - moving here alone?", was a recurring question. I sat there angry, lost in thought, crying then collecting myself, only to cry again. I heard unfamiliar footsteps on the floor above, ambulances outside, car alarms, voices, barking dogs. As I started to fall asleep, a strange sound came from my kitchen. It was a fainter sound of a familiar one I frequently heard growing up with cats. That sounds when your kitty would tip the box of meow mix over so he could use his paw to grab at the pieces trapped inside but not to loud — he didn’t want to disturb the humans because he knew if discovered, we’d place the box back up on the highest shelf possible or worse, inside of a cabinet. This light tapping noise continued coming from my kitchen so I slowly lifted myself off of my bed and crept towards my ugly brown-paneled, peeling-vinyl-floored kitchen and flipped on the switch. AHHHHHHH! millions of cockroaches going through my food and belongings! I ran back to my bed and felt paralyzed in fear. I didn’t know they could be so large. You see, roaches are to me what masked killers are to others - something to fear. I cradled my knees to my chest and eventually fell asleep to the sounds of insect feet scurrying around my kitchen. I was thoroughly grossed out.

Could things get any worse?

For nearly two weeks, I pretty much stayed in my apartment depressed to the core. I cried and slept all day, remaining wide awake at night since I feared the bugs finding their way to my bed and coating me in my sleep like some weird Alfred Hitchcock-ish film. My friends kept calling and knocking on my door but I didn’t answer. I just cried over my ex-boyfriend, lack of employment, the list grew as I isolated myself. Then something in my head snapped. I woke up after two weeks of extreme poor-me syndrome and decided to kick my own self in the butt. I wasn’t about to make the first official month in my new apartment a miserable one. I opened all the shades, played some music, and decided to get a life. I couldn’t just lay there and cry over love lost and bugs found. Sure I lived in a crappy beat-up roach coach, and okay I had no job and no man, but I did have ME and that had to count for something. I also had a few bucks left in my savings account so I did what any sensible depressed girl wanting to make a change would do. I shopped. But not at the mall. I headed to the one store that always made me feel better. The hardware store.

I walked through my unloved apartment and with clipboard in hand, decided on what immediate changes I needed to make in order to sleep there through the night. Deadly spray for killing horrible bugs. Fresh flowers. Something to fill in all the holes in the walls from previous tenant who loved to punch them. I needed primer and paint too. As the list grew, so did my outlook — I felt excited. I started returning phone calls and asked for help. I mean hello world, I finally had my very own place. I had dreamed of being on my own as a little girl, imagining how I’d decorate my apartment when I was a grown up, what color I’d paint the walls and there I was, this was my time, my place. Failure wasn’t an option.

After one week, the bugs hit the road. A few weeks later, all the holes were patched up, the walls were painted, I thorough cleaned the entire apartment, and scrubbed the hardwood floors to a beautiful glow. Within a month, I checked out a stack of DIY books at the local library, couldn’t afford to buy them in those days, and asked friends for their old copies of home magazines. I learned how to fill in the groves of paneling to make them look like drywall (and it worked - the walls went from dark brown wood to pale sage without groves). I also learned how to lay a parquet hardwood floor in the kitchen (the landlord agreed to pay for the wood, not the labor) and I asked a friend to finish the sides since that part required a skilled hand and power tools. My friend happened to be a very cute guy that I had a huge crush on, so spending lots of time with him helped me feel good — I liked the male company. I refinished all the cabinetry from dark brown to fresh white and added new hardware, sewed tab top curtains for the living room, added some wallpaper border to the kitchen (hey it was in the 90’s), and decorated the apartment with hand-me-down furniture from my family and friends and yard sale finds. I purchased most of my mugs and plates from the $1 store.

Within 3 months from the day I moved in, the apartment looked nearly brand new and after an intense job search, I landed an amazing position that launched me into a very successful career in the corporate world that I went on to hold for 9 years. After 9 months of living alone, I realized that I didn’t enjoy living alone so I eventually took on a roommate and we shared a larger 2 bedroom apartment that was in perfect move-in condition. No holes to repair, no roaches to kill.

That is why today, 13 years later, I speak so fondly of decorating and design on my blog, decor8. It’s vital to live in a place that supports your emotional well-being. One that motivates you and keeps you focused on moving forward in life. If I hadn’t renovated my apartment back then, who knows what would have happened to me? I may have become consumed in pain, I could have fallen into a deep period of depression, who knows? And though I made the choice to purchase paint over groceries (I lived on ramen noodle for 3 months), all that renovating, cleaning, and decorating kept my spirits very high. It kept me busy. I had friends over frequently to help me, including the hot guy friend with his power tools. You find what needs to be done, take ownership over how your apartment looks and feels, ask for help, find cute boys to do the hard stuff, don’t diss the dollar store (and curbside finds) and skip a few meals sometimes to buy a can of paint if needed. When you put your all into something, when you sacrifice to have the things you want putting your entire heart (and sometimes your last $20) into fixing up your home - then your confidence starts to soar, you feel empowered, motivated, and that you are just one extremely unstoppable human being. You feel like an adult, and that’s a good feeling. Progress is power. It’s empowering to take control of what you can control and forget the rest. And when it comes to decorating, don’t be afraid, it’s never permanent because as our lives change so do our rooms and often even our style. That’s how you can make a home for yourself when you first embark on your new life as a young twentysomething in your first apartment. Jump right in with your To Do list and start checking off some tasks. Enjoy all the happy moments of planning and choosing decorating details for yourself. Read books, ask for help, get creative. Realize that this is one of the only times in your life when you have 100% control over your decorating style, because as you take on roommates or a life partner, that will change. Take pride in your space, claim it, own it, decorate! You can do it!